Harry Potter: I am not a Tool
by Aamaterasu
Summary: Living with Dursleys, Harry grew up to be sharp and perceptive. He realized things weren't what what they seemed. So he decided to take his own path. Diverges from Canon at the end of CoS. Detailed summary inside. HP/GW. Dark  but not evil  Harry & Ginny.
1. The Boy Who Lived

_**Summary: **_The Sorting Hat originally wanted to place Harry in Slytherin. It means he had some cunning, right? Growing up with Dursleys made Harry sharp and perceptive. He manages to see through many of Dumbledore's manipulations and decides to create his own path. Diverges from the canon at the end of Chamber of Secrets. Dark (but not evil) Harry & Ginny!

Note that both Harry and Ginny will play central roles. They will be powerful, but not overly so.

_**Pairings:**_ It's going to be a HP/GW fic. Other pairings haven't been decided yet. Most of them are expected to be canon. And there would be NO SLASH!

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_**Author's Notes: **_The real divergence from canon begins from the end of Chamber of Secrets. However there are some differences in the earlier chapters as well. They are mostly concerned with Harry noticing things. I'd request you to read at least up to chapter 4, maybe 5, before judging the story!

I have taken some paragraphs directly from books, since there were no major changes, but those paragraphs were essential to maintain the flow. And the chapters will grow longer as the story progresses.

So folks read, review and most importantly, enjoy! This is my first fic, so please be gentle. I don't mind criticism, as long as it is constructive. By the way, English is not my native language, so please forgive some minor grammatical mistakes, if there are any! If pointed out, I'll try to correct them. Although I have already got most of the story planned, I am open to suggestions and will try to incorporate them as long as they don't alter the story too much!

Note that fiction rating may change!

_**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter and associated characters are NOT mine! So lawyers, keep away!

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_**Chapter 1: The Boy-Who-Lived**_

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that. So they had made it perfectly clear that they didn't want a Potter anywhere near them.

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_**Four Months Ago**_

Ding-Dong!

"I'll get it Vernon," said Mrs. Dursley while Vernon Dursley was muttering about crazy salesmen. Mrs. Dursley opened the door and –

"YOU!"

"Hello Petunia," said the red headed woman standing in the doorway. "I came to invite you to the first birthday party of my son, Harry. May I come in?"

"NO! How many times do I need to tell you to keep away from me and my perfectly normal family, you _freak? _Get lost. We want nothing to do with your kind." With these words Petunia Dursley slammed the door in the face of her sister, Lily Potter.

"Who was that dear?" asked Vernon.

"My _sister,_" spat Petunia, as if the admission had caused her a great deal of pain.

"Sister, you never told me about that!"

"Who would, if they had such a freak for a sister?"

And Petunia told Vernon all about her life, her sister, hoping Vernon wouldn't be too furious with her. She needn't have worried. In the end, Vernon was too shocked to be furious. When he returned to his senses, he agreed with his wife that such people should be kept as far away as possible.

After that incident they had not mentioned the Potters again and hoped that they would never have to see one of those freaks again.

Unfortunately, destiny had different plans for them!

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It was a perfectly normal morning when Mrs. Dursley opened the door to put out milk bottles and screamed. Lying on the doorstep was a basket. However it was not the basket that that caused her to shriek. In the basket, there was a raven haired baby. The baby, roused by the shriek, chose that exact moment to open its eyes and start wailing. It was the eyes that clued Petunia to who he was. They were a brilliant green – same as her sister's. Another thing that drew her attention was the letter clutched in his tiny hand. It was not written on ordinary paper. It was a parchment, like the ones she had seen her sister – _no; that little freak_ – use. Her first instinct was to slam the door and call the authorities. But she reasoned that it would call attention to her family and disrupt their normal lives, especially if that letter was found. So she took the baby inside – in case some neighbours woke up early and saw him – and opened the letter. It said –

_Dear Mrs. Dursley,_

_It is my sad duty to inform you that your sister, Lily Potter, and her husband were murdered last night by an evil wizard who calls himself Lord Voldemort. Lily, being a gifted witch, had apparently placed some protection on young Harry. This protection caused the curse to backfire when he tried to kill young Harry. Due to this, Lord Voldemort was vanquished last night. While many believe he is dead, I don't think so. It's my belief that he has merely been weakened and fled for his life. I believe he will return someday and would want his revenge. So I have invoked an ancient protection which will keep him safe till he is old enough to defend himself. For this protection to work, it is required that young Harry stays with his mother's blood relatives. Since you are the last blood relative of Mrs. Potter – and Mr. Potter has no living relatives either, I'd request you to raise him. By raising him not only will you keep him safe, you will be safe from anyone who wishes harm to your family – wizard or muggle. While Lord Voldemort may be gone for some time, his followers are still at loose, and they love killing muggles such as yourself, for sport. So raising Harry will be beneficial to both of you. And don't worry about finances; you will receive 5000 pounds a month for this purpose. It will increase as young Harry grows up. Expect the first instalment to be deposited in your account within a week._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore,  
Headmaster __– __ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,  
Order of Merlin __– __ First Class,  
Grand Sorcerer,  
Chief Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump __– __ International Confederation of Wizards_

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At first, Petunia was furious. How dare those freaks die and dump that little freak at her doorstep! The boy would be going to an orphanage! But the prospect of protection from those crazed lunatics and the money changed her mind. Petunia was no fool, she had heard of Lord Voldemort from Lily and those awful friends of hers. Due to her excellent eavesdropping abilities, she knew more about those freaks than anyone would expect her to. All she'd have to do now would be to persuade Vernon. Wouldn't be too difficult, would it? After all, Vernon would love to lay his hands on more money. And if they kept the boy downtrodden enough, they might even be able to eliminate the freakishness from him. Yes, that's what will happen; they will make the most out of the burden placed upon them.

So, Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, was placed with his relatives, who had vowed to make his life a personal hell, not knowing that the witches and wizards were celebrating his defeat of one of the most evil wizards of all times, not knowing that he was famous – a legend, nor that he would spend his childhood being bullied by his cousin and doing slave labour for his relatives.

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_**Author's Notes: **_Hope you enjoyed it! Please review! I'll be back soon, as I already have a few chapters written!


	2. Ten Years Later

_**Author's Notes: **_As I said in the last chapter, the real divergence from canon begins from the end of Chamber of Secrets. But it is coming soon. I don't intend to cover first or second years. They proceed as per canon. The reasons behind this & the differences will be explained as flashbacks at appropriate points.

Another point is that while Harry will be smart, perceptive and sly, he will still have some Gryffindor traits in him. I intend to make him a hybrid between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

So folks read, review and most importantly, enjoy! This is my first fic, so please be gentle. I don't mind criticism, as long as it is constructive. By the way, English is not my native language, so please forgive some minor grammatical mistakes, if there are any! If pointed out, I'll try to correct them. Although I have already got most of the story planned, I am open to suggestions and will try to incorporate them as long as they don't alter the story too much!

Note that fiction rating may change!

_**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter and associated characters are NOT mine! So lawyers, keep away!

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_**Chapter 2: Ten Years Later**_

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the morning when Mrs Dursley had found Harry. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bonnets - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.

But Harry Potter was still there. He had spent last ten years of his life being bullied and punished for things he didn't do or could not explain. There were times when Dudley and his gang were on their favourite pastime – Harry hunting – which involved chasing Harry and beating him to a pulp; and he miraculously found himself out of their reach. There was one time when his teacher had been scolding him for getting low marks when his hair had turned blue. Unexplained stuff like this often happened around him. No matter how much he said he hadn't done it, he was always punished. The Dursleys would beat him and lock him up in his _bedroom, _which happened to be the cupboard under the stairs, without food, for days. Dudley often got some sort of reward and praise for beating Harry up. Fortunately for Harry – he had realised that his injuries always healed way faster than anybody else – without any medical treatment. Unfortunately, the Dursleys had realised it too. So they weren't afraid of anybody finding out about the abuse he suffered. As long as he didn't receive any fatal wound, he couldn't do anything; as he had found out when he tried telling his teacher. She didn't believe him and informed the Dursleys that he was spreading nasty lies. It had earned him the most brutal beating till date – resulting in a broken arm and a month in the cupboard, with only one meal per day. It was at this point that Harry stopped trusting adults – and especially – authority figures.

Needless to say, Harry was small and skinny for his age. But this came to be an advantage while shaking off Dudley and his gang. The only thing he liked about his appearance was a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He remembered asking Aunt Petunia about it when he was six. Aunt Petunia had shaved off his head except a tiny fringe she had left to hide _that awful scar._

"Aunt Petunia, how did I get this scar?"

"In the accident when your parents died. And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions. This was the first rule for peaceful coexistence with Dursleys, well – as peaceful as it could be!

Harry had been told that his parents had died in a car accident. There were no photographs of them. When he tried to remember them, all he could remember was a lot of green light and a cackle of cold, cruel laughter. Aunt Petunia had told him it was the accident. Harry found it odd. Why would there be laughter in an accident? But he could not ask his aunt and uncle.

Living with Dursleys had sharpened Harry's survival instincts. He was not the dumb idiot his teachers made him out to be. He only played that part to avoid punishment for being smarter than Dudley. As a matter of fact, he was smarter than most boys of his age. He was quite perceptive. He had realized that all those freaky things – as Aunt Petunia had called them – happened only when he was angry or scared. Afterwards he was often left exhausted. He had also felt something rise within him before those things happened. He had tried to make those things happen consciously when he was locked up in his cupboard, but he never succeeded. He managed to get the feeling of something rising inside him, but it felt much weaker, like something was blocking it.

There were times when he found strangers – and very strange strangers at that, for they were wearing strange clothes – staring at him. Once an excitable old man had bowed to him and shaken his hand. When he tried to look closely, he found that the man had simply vanished. His aunt, after asking if he knew the man, had taken him home immediately. Thankfully he wasn't punished for that.

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It was Dudley's eleventh birthday when Harry accidently discovered that he could talk to snakes. The Dursleys had been forced to take him to the zoo with them because they couldn't find anyone to take him in for the day. Their cat obsessed neighbour, Mrs Figg, who usually took care of Harry while the Dursleys were away, had broken her leg and Vernon's sister Marge was ill. Harry suggested them to leave him at home but it fell on deaf ears. They said that they didn't want the house blown up. So after much debate and a Dudley tantrum, they had decided to take him with them, but with the warning that there would be hell to pay if anything strange happened.

It happened when they were in the reptile house, watching snakes. Dudley had quickly found the largest snake in the place. It was sleeping. Dudley and Uncle Vernon tried to wake it up by tapping the glass. Harry felt pity for the poor creature. It was kept captive and wasn't even allowed to sleep peacefully. It was then that Harry heard a hissing sound –

"_Stupid humanssss, can't let me sleep peacefully!"_

Harry was astonished. He could understand the snake. He decided to talk to it.

"_Hello there, you get a lot of that, don't you?"_

"_Yessss human, How can you understand me?"_

"_I don't really know," _replied a puzzled Harry_. "Where do you come from, anyway?" _

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

_**Boa Constrictor, Brazil.**_

_"Was it nice there?"_

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on:

_**This specimen was bred in the zoo.**_

_"Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"_

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could. "Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they were inside the glass and the snake was outside.

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry heard a low, hissing voice say, _"Thanksssssss"

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The escape of the Boa Constrictor had earned Harry his longest punishment yet. By the time he got out of his cupboard, July was almost over. Harry found out that he would be going to local Stonewell High while Dudley would be going to Smeltings, Uncle Vernon's old school. Harry was glad about that. Without Dudley around, his life would be much easier. He wouldn't have to hold back his true potential there. He wouldn't be punished for all the things Dudley did. He might even be able to find some friends since Dudley wouldn't be there to scare them off.

It was a day before his birthday that Harry found a letter addressed to him among the mail he was ordered to get. He found the letter very odd. To begin with, it wasn't ordinary paper. It was thick yellowish parchment. Another thing was the way it was addressed –

_Mr H. Potter  
Cupboard under the Stairs_  
_4, Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey_

Who could be writing to him? He hadn't received any letters before. Who could possibly know that he lived in the cupboard? Before he could think further, Uncle Vernon was yelling at him to hurry up. Being cautious, he stowed his letter in his pocket and gave the remaining letters to Uncle Vernon. He wasn't sure if he would be allowed to read his letter if the Dursleys saw it. He decided to read the letter when he was safely inside his cupboard.

He never found time to read his letter during the day because his aunt kept giving him chores after chores. He had noticed that she had been a bit tense for last couple of weeks, as if she was anticipating something. Harry found it odd, but as usual, couldn't ask her about it, not that he wanted to. So when he went to bed after dinner, he enthusiastically opened his letter. It said –

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
Order of Merlin, First Class  
Grand Sorcerer  
Chief Warlock  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards_

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. Someone will be at you residence soon to explain this to your guardians and take you shopping for school._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress _

Harry was furious. So this was some huge joke Dursleys had planned for his birthday. His first instinct was to tear the letter and throw it away. But, as he calmed down, he realized that Dursleys wouldn't bother to remember his birthday. There was a tiny chance that it might be true. After all, those freaky things, what if it was all magic? So he decided he'd wait for this person. Even if it was a joke, he could hardly do anything about it. He tossed the letter aside and lay down waiting for midnight when he will be eleven years old.

The Dursleys usually ignored his birthday. He had found out about it only after he had started going to school. When he was five, he had asked his aunt why his birthday wasn't celebrated. He was told that freaks like him didn't deserve birthdays and was given four days in cupboard for asking questions.

As the clock struck midnight, there was a loud knock on the door. Harry wondered who would be calling at such a late hour. He heard Uncle Vernon thundering down the stairs to open the door. As Harry came out, he saw the largest man he had ever seen standing on the doorstep.

"WHO THE RUDDY HELL ARE YOU?" roared uncle Vernon.

The man paid no heed to him and looked straight at Harry. "Hullo Harry!" he said, "Las' time I saw yeh, yeh was only a baby, yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

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When Harry woke up the next morning, he decided that last night must have been a dream. A giant called Hagrid had come and told him that he was a wizard and the letter wasn't a hoax. He had taken him to London – on a weird purple coloured bus called the Knight Bus – where they had spent rest of the night at an inn called The Leaky Cauldron. He had also told him that his parents didn't die in a car crash, they were murdered by an evil wizard – Lord Voldemort – though Hagrid called him You-Know-Who, that he was famous and that his parents had left him some money for his education. He had also found out that Aunt Petunia had known about all this. Hagrid had also made them give him Dudley's second bedroom and had given Dudley a pigs' tail when Vernon insulted the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. So when he opened his eyes and found himself not in his cupboard but in the room at The Leaky Cauldron, he was pleasantly surprised. At first he considered the possibility that all of this might be a huge joke planned by the Dursleys. But then, the Dursleys had no sense of humour.

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_**Author's Notes: **_Thanks to all those who reviewed, though I admit there wasn't much to review in the first chapter. Hope you continue doing so.

**DukeBrymin:** The idea behind 5000 pounds was that Dumbledore basically bribed them to raise Harry. This will have some significance later.

**James018:** As I said in Chapter 1, they will not be super power type. The same goes for cunning as well. After all Dumbledore is the master of manipulations; he has been doing it for ages. Harry & Ginny will be successful at first, but eventually make mistakes; otherwise the story will be extremely boring. As far as maturity is concerned, they will be slightly mature due to their pasts; but they won't be all grown up type. Also Harry is taking a path separate from both Voldemort and Dumbledore, there is bound to be some bashing. But I'll try to keep it moderate. And as of now Dumbledore is only misguided, not evil. That may change if too many people want to see evil Dumbles. I'll put up a poll when I need to decide this. On the other hand Dumbledore is never gonna take orders from Harry; as I have seen in many fics. It's just weird!

Anyway thanks again. Hope you liked this chapter. Please Review.


	3. The Magical World

_**Author's Notes:**_This is probably the last chapter before the Chamber of Secrets.

Read, review and most importantly, enjoy!

_**Disclaimer:**_Harry Potter and associated characters are NOT mine! So lawyers, keep away!

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_**Chapter 3: The Magical World**_

At about 10:30 AM on his birthday, Harry found himself in the lobby of Gringotts' Wizarding Bank. Hagrid had told him that it was the one of the safest places in the world, besides Hogwarts. One would be mad to try and rob it. Hagrid went to the nearest goblin and said, "We have come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's vault."

"Do you have the key, sir?" the goblin asked.

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, while searching his multiple pockets. He found it after a while and handed it to the goblin.

The goblin examined the key. "That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen." The goblin read the letter carefully and placed it under some weird device, where it glowed green. "Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Hagrid and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Top secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Harry found it odd that the top secret business was being conducted so openly. Wouldn't it have made more sense to come alone for this top secret thing - which turned out to be a grubby little package wrapped in brown paper? But in his delight at finding the small fortune that his parents had left him, he forgot all about it.

When they stepped in the lobby of the bank, a goblin came running towards them. He said, "Mr. Potter, could you please come with me? Gorcrook, your accounts manager wants to talk to you." Harry looked at Hagrid who, for some reason, looked troubled. Hagrid said, "Yeh can come later Harry, Professor Dumbledore is expectin' me by this evening and we need ter get a lotta shoppin' done by then." He wouldn't meet Harry's eye as he said that. Harry decided that he would return later to check upon his account.

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At Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Harry met an arrogant boy whom he immediately disliked. He recited his father's beliefs about everything. He reminded him of Dudley Dursley. When he told Hagrid about the meeting, Hagrid told him about the houses and quidditch. Harry's dislike for the boy intensified when Hagrid told him that Slytherin house – which the blond boy wanted to get into – produced most of the dark wizards, including Voldemort himself. Later, they went to Ollivanders' where he was surprised to find that his wand was brother to Voldemort's. When Harry waved the wand, he had the same feeling of something rising within him, though it was still restricted. After that Harry bought his books and other supplies while Hagrid bought him a snowy owl as a birthday gift. Another thing he found odd that Hagrid wouldn't let him buy any book or equipment other than those listed in the letter. "Don' worry Harry, yeh will not be needin' 'em at Hogwarts, don' waste the money," said Hagrid.

After getting his shopping done, Harry wanted to stay at The Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the summer. But Hagrid said that it was not safe. So he reluctantly returned to Privet Drive. Later, he reflected that it had been a good idea. One of the shopkeepers had shouted his name for the whole street to hear. Dozens of people had followed him while he shopped. They all wanted to shake The-Boy-Who-Lived's hand, to talk to him, or simply touch him. Many of them even wanted an autograph. It was Hagrid's intimidating presence which had kept them at bay. Needless to say, Harry was highly uncomfortable for the rest of the day. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had stayed at The Leaky Cauldron.

During the last month, the Dursleys' mostly ignored him, which suited him just fine. Since he wasn't given any chores to do, he spent most of his time sitting in his new bedroom reading his books. He tried some of the spells and most of them worked fine. By now he had realized that the something he felt rising inside him was magic. Though he couldn't understand the blockage he felt. It didn't seem natural. It was like something was preventing him from doing magic. He decided to think about it later. He named his owl Hedwig, a name he had found in his History of Magic book.

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On 1st September, his uncle left him at King's Cross station as stated in his ticket and went away, smiling at his predicament, for Harry was in big trouble. He couldn't find the platform nine and three quarters. He stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Harry couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Harry was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Harry asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Harry was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl. Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten.

At that moment a group of people passed just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"- packed with Muggles, of course -"

Harry swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry's in front of him - and they had an owl. Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mum, can't I go... "She looked ready to cry. Harry felt very bad for her.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

What looked like the oldest boy marched towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it - but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"I'm sorry, George."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone - but how had he done it?

There was nothing else for it.

"Excuse me," Harry said timidly.

It was the little girl who answered. "Hello, First time at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is - the thing is, I don't know how to-"

"How to get to the platform?" she asked, and Harry nodded.

She giggled. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it. Wait, I'll come with you. Mum!" She turned to her mother who hadn't noticed him till then. She was busy scolding the third brother – apparently George – for making mischief. "Oh! Hello dear!" she said.

"Can I help him get to the platform?" asked the girl – Ginny.

"Sure, dear!"

So Harry and Ginny strode towards the barrier with the trolley. As they got closer, Harry closed his eyes. He was sure they'd crash. But the crash never came.

"You can open your eyes!" said Ginny, giggling.

Harry opened his eyes to see a scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it, He had done it.

Harry turned to the little red headed girl. "Thanks! I am Harry, by the way."

"I'm Ginny, Ginny Weasley. And you are welcome."

"Nice meeting you, I'll go find a compartment. Bye!"

"Bye." The girl looked sad.

"What's the matter? You look sad." asked Harry.

"Oh! It's nothing. It's a bit silly actually."

"You can tell me. I mean - if you want to..."

"It's just that Ron will be going to Hogwarts this year and I'll be all alone." She looked positively distraught.

"I'm sure they'll write to you."

"They all say so, but they never write!"

"How about I write to you?"

"You will?" She looked hopefully at him.

"Sure, if you want me to."

Her face lit up. "I'd love that." And she hugged him.

"Oi George, looks like ickle Gin-Gin has found herself a boyfriend!" It was Fred.

"Looks like it, brother mine!" said George.

Ginny blushed tomato red for a moment before turning towards her brothers, glaring, "_Don't – call – me – Gin-Gin._" She punctured each word with a poke in the twins' chests. Harry was amused to see the twins – who were about a foot taller than her – cowering before her. She turned towards Harry and kissed him on the cheek. "Get going, I'll deal with them. Goodbye!"

"Bye, Ginny!"

Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.

"Want a hand?" It was burly, black haired boy.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

With his help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"I am Oliver Wood. Fifth year Gryffindor." The boy extended his hand.

"Harry Potter," said Harry, shaking the offered hand.

Wood's eyes flicked briefly towards his forehead before he said, "Nice meeting you Harry. Hope to see you in Gryffindor." And he walked off.

Harry sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mum - geroff" He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front; the prefects have got two compartments to themselves -"

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once -"

"Or twice -"

"A minute -"

"All summer -"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term - send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two - this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've - you've blown up a toilet or -"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's not funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry; ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

A whistle drowned the rest of their conversation and the Weasley boys rushed to board the train. Later he was joined by Ron Weasley. Ron seemed to be in awe of him. This made Harry uncomfortable. But as the journey went on, they grew comfortable with each other. Ron told him all about his family. Harry felt that Ron desperately wanted to get out of the shadow of his brothers. He also realized that Ron was somewhat jealous of him when he saw him buying loads of sweets. "What wouldn't I give to have a loving family like that?" thought Harry.

Later they met Neville Longbottom – a shy, chubby boy and Hermione Granger – a bushy haired, bossy girl. Neville had lost his toad and Hermione was helping him – or at least she said so. Harry suspected she was trying to find someone to befriend; with her bossy attitude, not many would want to befriend her.

About halfway through the journey the pale blond boy from Madam Malkin's showed up along with two bodyguards – errrr friends. His name was Draco Malfoy. Harry's dislike for him increased when he badmouthed the Weasleys. A scuffle broke out, which ended when Scabbers – Ron's pet rat, bit Goyle – or was it Crabbe, Harry wasn't too sure.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_A heartfelt thanks to all those who reviewed.

I intended to go through the sorting and Snape's first class. But there weren't many changes, other than Snape getting what was coming to him. I even had the chapter written. So for now I am leaving it. Maybe I'll show Snape's class in a flashback. Next Chapter – Two Years Later – Harry vs. Tom Riddle (I mean the basilisk)

The jump might seem somewhat abrupt, but I couldn't see the point of merely repeating the canon.

Please Review

* * *

_**How would you like to see old Dumbledore?**_

_**1. Not evil; just misguided. Agrees at a truce with Harry at some later stage.  
2. Not evil; just misguided. Never agrees at a truce.  
3. Evil; out for personal gain.  
4. Evil; will go to any lengths for The Greater Good.  
5. Does some evil things, but with good intentions.**_


	4. Two Years Later : The Chamber of Secrets

_**Author's Notes:**_ Here it is - the much awaited time jump. The real divergence starts now. For those who have some doubts about the first and second years – they were similar to canon, not exactly the same. There were some noticeable differences. They will come up as flashbacks at appropriate places.

I haven't done anything special with **Parseltongue**, except for italicising it. The difference between Parseltongue and normal speech will be clear from context.

I have no knowledge of Latin – or any other language which can be used for spell creation. So I meddled with the spellings of English words and some existing spells to create new ones. Hope you don't mind.

That said, read, review and enjoy.

_**Disclaimer:**_ Harry Potter and associated characters are NOT mine! So lawyers, keep away!

* * *

_**Chapter 4: Two Years Later : The Chamber of Secrets**_

_"Open,"_ said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, revealing the mythical Chamber of Secrets.

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny? He wondered – not for the first time – if coming alone had really been a good idea. But there was hardly anyone he could go to. Dumbledore was gone, McGonagall would have been sceptical and probably locked him up in the Gryffindor Tower, Lockhart was an idiot and Snape – he'd rather face the basilisk twice than ask Snape for help. Harry couldn't ask Ron – he would be more of a hindrance than help – especially with a broken wand. He wasn't there in Gryffindor Tower anyway. But Harry couldn't leave Ginny to die. She was his first – and best – friend. He felt guilty for not paying her more attention. They had hardly talked throughout the year. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't remember why he had avoided her.

Harry heard a faint sound of crying coming from the far end of the hallway. His heart leapt. Ginny was alive!_ "Lumos!"_ he muttered, and sprinted towards the source of the sound.

He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above; it was ancient and monkey-ish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, sat, huddled, a tiny black robed figure with flaming red hair. She was crying silently.

"Ginny!" Harry broke into a run.

Ginny looked up and gasped, "Harry! Go back! It's a trap, he – he wants to kill you!"

Harry didn't stop until he reached her. He hugged her tightly. "Thank goodness you are alive! I thought I had lost you." Then Ginny's words registered to him, "Who is it, Ginny?"

"That would be me, Harry Potter," said a cold voice.

Harry jumped and spun around. A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching.

"Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

Harry noticed that Tom didn't look solid. In fact, he could have passed for a ghost, except that instead of pearly white, he was coloured like a normal human. "But you lived fifty years ago!" Then it struck him –

"You are the heir of Slytherin! You framed Hagrid!"

"Figured it out, have you? Too bad you can't do anything with the information."

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years. He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Realisation hit him like a bolt of lightning. "Ginny! What have you done!" He said weakly. Ginny didn't look up. She sobbed even harder.

"You possessed her. Didn't you? You made her open the Chamber. You made her kill the roosters. You made her set the basilisk upon the students. Didn't you?"

"Quite sharp for a Gryffindor, aren't we?" Tom said smiling.

"The hat did want to sort me in Slytherin." Harry smirked.

If Tom was shocked at this information, he didn't show it. Ginny looked up sharply.

"If you wanted to kill her, you could have done so silently. Nobody would have known until it was too late. Why did you leave that message?"

"To lure you down here," replied Tom.

"But why? And how did you know I would come?"

"To answer your second question, little Ginny here, has told me enough about you to deduce that you would come and come alone too. With the old fool gone, there isn't anybody you could turn to."

"I am s-sorry Harry. I didn't know he was e-evil. He s-seemed very nice." Ginny started sobbing again.

"It's okay Ginny. Now get up and get out of the Chamber. I'll deal with him. I have a feeling who he really is. And if it is correct, it could turn really nasty." He muttered the last part to himself.

"I c-can't. I feel too w-weak."

"What have you done to her?" Harry asked Tom, angrily.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes – how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, how" – Riddle's eyes glinted "how Harry Potter – her supposed best friend - stopped talking to her." Harry felt a pang of guilt.

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

* * *

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…"

"So you really are the teenage version of Voldemort?"

Tom was shocked. He heard a sharp intake of breath and looked at Ginny; only to see pure horror on her face. "Don't worry Ginny. I'll take care of him."

"How did you figure it out, Potter?" asked Tom.

"How many people would want to kill a twelve year old? And my scar has been hurting slightly ever since I entered the Chamber. It hurts only when he is nearby"

"Interesting Potter. Very interesting."

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. "What if you found out how to work it and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue..."

"So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her... She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last... I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. Though I am surprised you came so quickly. I had expected to be solid enough to wield a wand by the time you came. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

Harry, to his horror, realised that Tom looked more solid than he did when he had arrived while Ginny looked much worse. He knew he had to end it soon.

"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Twice – in your past, in my future – we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry abruptly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common – muggle-born – mother. She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive."

"Your mother died to save you. So she probably used some sort of sacrificial blood magic. Never thought someone in Dumbledore's camp would use dark magic – especially blood magic. I wonder if the old coot knew about it. It doesn't matter anyway. Can't you see it Potter? You are nothing special. It was all your mother's doing. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself… but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know. Though I wonder how a mudblood got so much talent…"

"Now Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter"

_"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."_ Riddle spoke in a soft, hissing voice.

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue; he saw its mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths. He heard Riddle's hissing voice -

_"Kill him."_

"_No, stop,"_ hissed Harry.

"Don't bother Potter. I have made sure it won't listen to anybody but me."

This was the moment; the moment Harry had prepared for, ever since he found out that the monster was a basilisk.

"_Occulus Obscura!" _His glasses clouded over. Now he wouldn't die instantly even if he looked into the basilisk's eye. He would have a couple of seconds to break the eye-contact. On the downside his vision had become poorer.

Pointing his wand to the basilisk's eyes – or where he suspected they would be – for he could not see them, he cast –

"_Conjunctivitus Maximus!"_

– twice in quick succession. The first one met its mark. But the pain caused the basilisk to turn sharply, causing the second curse to miss. It went berserk. Harry had to jump multiple times to avoid it.

"_Diffindo!"_

"_Reducto!"_

"_Reducto!"_

"_Diffindo!"_

Almost all the curses bounced off its skin. A couple of them managed to strike inside its mouth. But the great serpent merely shook its head, as if hit by a pebble, not a powerful cutting curse. The next moment, Harry found himself staring into a great yellow eye. The other one was swollen and closed. Harry found his body seize up. He fought with all his might against the basilisk's magic, which was trying to rip him apart from his body. In a daze, he felt himself raise his wand and murmur –

"_Conjunctivitus Maximus!"_

To his satisfaction, Harry saw the curse connect and basilisk's eye close. He breathed a sigh a sigh of relief and fell to his knees, panting.

Tom Riddle was livid. _"Smell him, you stupid snake. Sniff him and kill him."_

The basilisk moved around, its tongue darting from side to side. Suddenly it struck. Harry barely managed to avoid being eaten alive by rolling to his left. He stood up and moved backwards, trying to put as much distance between himself and the basilisk as possible. All the while his brain was working furiously on what to do next. He tried some cutting curses. But they all bounced off its skin. A normal basilisk would have died by now. But this one was a thousand years old - a basilisk's magic increases as it grows older - as Harry remembered, much to his dismay. The worst part was that with every passing second, Tom was getting stronger and Ginny was nearing death. Harry suddenly remembered something he had heard from none other than Voldemort himself, at the end of his first year.

* * *

_**At the End of the First Year**_

…hand over the Stone boy, unless you want them to have died in vain."

"NEVER."

Harry sprang towards the door as Voldemort yelled, "KILL HIM."

Quirrell raised his wand and shouted –

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry heard a rushing sound and a green light rushing towards him. He barely managed to dodge the curse. So this was the curse that had haunted his nightmares! He realised that there would be no running away unless he incapacitated Quirrell.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ cried Harry. But the curse bounced off Quirrell's shield.

In the meantime, Voldemort was yelling at Quirrell, "Not the Killing Curse you fool. It won't work on him. Kill him the muggle way. Throttle him."

Quirrell lunged at Harry, his hand outstretched. But Harry, being smaller and faster, managed to stay out of his grip. In the meantime he had managed to fire many body-binders at Quirrell, all of which were bounced back – several missing Harry by mere inches.

Now Harry was really panicking. There was nothing else for it. He decided to go for the kill. Pointing his wand at Quirrell, he cried –

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The result – nothing. Voldemort laughed. "Boy, what do they teach you these days? Don't you know that the words are not enough? It's your intent that matters. You need to mean them – the unforgivables. You need to feel the hatred. You need to have the murderous intent! And in any case, no eleven year old has enough magic to cast the Killing Curse."

While Voldemort was giving Harry a crash course in unforgivables, Quirrell had managed to come very close to Harry. The next thing Harry knew was that Quirrell's hands were clasped on his throat. And the next moment he had moved away as if burned.

Quirrell pointed his wand at Harry's throat and started, _"Sectum-" _but Harry grabbed his face before he could proceed. Quirrel quickly turned to dust and Voldemort fled.

* * *

_**Sometime during the Second Year**_

Fed up of Lockhart's classes, Harry was reading some defence books by himself in the library. The title was_ 'Defence against the Vilest of Curses'_. The section Harry was reading was _'The Unforgivables'._It read –

_The third Unforgivable is Avada Kedavra, or the Killing Curse. There is no magical shield to block it…._

At the bottom a paragraph read –

_The Unforgivables are so called because using them even once against a human being is enough to earn a lifetime in Azkaban. We would not provide instructions on how to cast these curses.

* * *

_

But it wasn't illegal to cast it against a basilisk, was it? Pointing his wand at the oncoming serpent, Harry summoned every single memory he had of the Dursleys' abuse, every single memory of Snape's unfairness, every single bad thing that had happened to him. A deep hatred welled up inside him. A deep rooted desire to kill! He yelled –

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

A jet of green light emerged from Harry's wand and hit the serpent head on. It was blasted away. Panting, he turned to Tom whose face showed nothing but shock. A second later, the shock was replaced by a twisted smile.

"You are powerful, Potter. I'll have to give you that. Casting the Killing curse at twelve – and a powerful one at that – rare, very rare indeed. But, all your efforts were for nothing. A basilisk this old can't be killed by a single killing curse – no matter how powerful you are. Its scales have too much magic."

To his horror, Harry saw the basilisk stirring and slithering towards him. Tom on the other had had become almost solid. Only his edges remained blurred. He was panicking now. What was he supposed to do? Even the most powerful curse he knew had no effect on the serpent. And Ginny had only got a few more minutes left.

An idea hit him. He realised that the basilisk had some reaction towards the curses which had hit inside its mouth. This meant that the inside of its mouth wasn't as tough as the exterior. Taking his chances, he moved closer to the basilisk and pointed his wand straight towards the ceiling of its open mouth –

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

He cast the curse twice, in quick succession, pouring all his hatred into it. Harry knew it had worked this time. Instead of being blasted away, the basilisk recoiled slightly and then slumped forward, lifeless. Harry had to move quickly to avoid being crushed by it.

"Well done Potter. You managed to kill my basilisk. But I am afraid it's too late for your little girlfriend now. She is too far gone to save now." Tom Riddle was smiling. But Harry could see anger – _and was it panic_ – in his expression. Tom Riddle was panicking – which meant there was something Harry could do.

"_Lacero!"_ muttered Harry, his wand pointed at Tom Riddle.

But the curse seemed to merge with Riddle. "How stupid are you, Potter? If I am not solid enough to lift a wand, how do you expect a lacerating curse to work on me? In fact, there are very few curses which could harm me in this state. I doubt you have even heard of any such curse. Ordinary curses will do nothing but strengthen me."

Harry panicked. He ran to Ginny, who was almost unconscious now. There, he spotted, lying near her feet, was Riddle's diary. In the coming months, Harry would never recall how he knew it, but he somehow knew the diary had to be destroyed. Taking careful aim, he spoke, _"Incendio!"_

Tom laughed. "Did you honestly believe I'd leave my diary unprotected against something as common as fire? By the time you find something destructive enough, it'll all be over. Only a few more minutes now, and you'll have the honour of dying at Lord Voldemort's wand. Why don't you stop struggling and spend the last moments of your life with your girlfriend." He smirked.

Harry knew he was in serious trouble now. How could he destroy the diary? He needed something extremely destructive. Then it hit him! Basilisk venom! One of the most destructive things in the world! The real problem was getting to the basilisk without Riddle noticing what he was up to. He doubted that Riddle would have taken no steps to protect his diary. But seeing no other options, he decided to take his chances. If he had to die, he'd die fighting. Picking up the diary – he was surprised he could – he ran towards the basilisk.

"NOOOO! What are you doing!" Riddle lunged towards Harry. But Harry dodged and kept running. _"Stupefy!" _cried Riddle. A red-orange beam emerged from the wand clutched in Tom's hand - which cluttered to floor the next moment. Harry recognised it as Ginny's. The stunner looked terribly weak. But Harry dodged it anyway. Before Tom could do anything else, he had pierced the diary with one of the Basilisk's fangs. Ink poured out of it in torrents. With a inhumane shriek Tom Riddle vanished. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was over at last.

Harry ran to Ginny, who was unconscious now. Her face was deathly pale. His heart clenched. He remembered the little girl he had befriended at platform nine and three quarters. The girl he had written to during the first year – she had been his respite from Ron and Hermione's constant bickering. The girl who had become quickly became his best friend during the summer at the Burrow. Guilt and shame welled up inside him. Had he only talked to her, she wouldn't have had to go through any of this. Thinking back, he couldn't understand why he hadn't talked to her. He felt his thoughts drift away to other mundane things. It was as if something – or someone didn't want him to think about it. But who could it be? With all his might, he focused on Ginny – a fog seemed to lift from his mind. Realisation dawned upon him. Dumbledore – it was entirely his fault! He must have used some compulsion spell. He'd never forgive that manipulative old goat!

Harry realised he was tightly hugging Ginny. He knew he had to save her; no matter what it cost him. He silently willed his magic to pass through her, to revive her. The block on his magic tried to restrain him, but it couldn't stand against his resolve. Finally it gave way. Magic poured out of him. Though he couldn't see it, they were surrounded by a golden aura, laced with ruby red and emerald green. Then there was a blinding flash of white light and he knew no more. His last thoughts were, "I'm sorry Gin. I was too late."

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_ A heartfelt thanks to all those who reviewed.

To those who asked questions about first and second years, I'd say wait and watch. I can't say much without spoiling the next few chapters. Some of it has been explained in this chapter. I'll cover the remaining in the coming chapters.

For those who didn't get it – Tom Riddle was bluffing about not being affected by curses. That's why he didn't goad Harry into cursing him. The lacerating curse didn't work because it causes physical harm and Tom Riddle didn't have a physical body. He was made of magic. So curses like _Avada Kedavra_ could have some kind of effect on him.

Another thing is that I am not going to have Harry throw an unforgivable at every occasion. He will use them when needed. But it wouldn't be like every other spell coming out of his wand will be _Avada Kedavra_ or _Crucio._That's Voldemort's job.

I have decided what I am going to do with Dumbledore. But I won't be spoiling it now.

Also, don't berate me for Harry's good knowledge of spells. There is a very good reason for that which will be explained soon. And he is not all knowing. He merely knows some more spells than his peers. He is NOT a bookworm.

The block on Harry's magic will be explained in next couple of chapters.

Alas, this chapter marks the end of daily updates. From now on, I have to create the chapters from a scratch. I won't have much to copy from books. So the fic will be updated once or twice a week.

* * *

_**Finally what do you guys think of Neville/Hermione pairing? Do you think it is better than Ron/Hermione? If yes, who'd you pair with Ron? If no, who'd you pair with Neville? If you don't like either then state your opinion about pairing for all three. Since most of this fic will be about H/G, the other couples won't get much "screen time." They won't have much consequence on the plot either. I have already thought about this but I'd like to hear your opinion.**_

Hope you enjoyed it. Please Review!


	5. Revelations

_**Author's Notes: **_Sorry for the delay. The original version of this chapter seemed rather lousy. So I decided to rewrite it. I also made some minor adjustments to the plans I had for the story. Due to this, I had to adjust the second last paragraph of last chapter. It's nothing major. I'm posting the adjusted paragraph for your convenience.

* * *

_**Update: **_I made some changes to the chapter – based upon the readers' suggestions and my own observations. Nothing major; but you may want to go through it!

* * *

I'd be grateful if someone points out my mistakes!

That said, read, review and most importantly, enjoy.

_**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter and associated characters are NOT mine! So lawyers, keep away!

* * *

_With all his might, he focused on Ginny – a fog seemed to lift from his mind. Realisation dawned upon him. Dumbledore – it was entirely his fault! He must have used some compulsion spell. He'd never forgive that manipulative old goat! _

_Harry realised he was tightly hugging Ginny. He knew he had to save her; no matter what it cost him. He silently willed his magic to pass through her, to revive her. The block on his magic tried to restrain him, but it couldn't stand against his resolve. Finally it gave way. Magic poured out of him. Though he couldn't see it, they were surrounded by a golden aura, laced with ruby red and emerald green. Then there was a blinding flash of white light and he knew no more. His last thoughts were, "I'm sorry Gin. I was too late."_

_

* * *

_

_**Chapter 5: Revelations**_

Harry opened his eyes groggily. It took him a moment to remember where he was. The Chamber – the basilisk – Tom Riddle – the diary – Ginny! He sat up quickly, dislodging a small body resting on his chest in the process.

"Ginny! You're alive! Thank Merlin! I thought I'd lost you!" He hugged her.

"Harry, I'm so s-sorry. I didn't mean to. H-he made me. I- I-" She broke into fresh sobs.

"I know, Ginny. I know."

"No-nobody will believe me. T-they'll expel me. What will my parents say?" sobbed a distraught Ginny.

"They won't expel you – I'll tell them everything – I'll show them the diary." Harry held her close, trying to comfort her, while feeling deeply uncomfortable himself. He had no experience with crying girls.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ginny finally calmed down, only to look at him with questioning eyes. "What happened Harry? Why did you stop talking to me? You went out of your way to avoid me. Was it something I did? I tried to ask you – but you wouldn't even look at me!"

Harry's face darkened. "It wasn't what you did, Ginny; it was what your brother did – him and the Headmaster!"

"My brother?" Her eyes narrowed, "Which one? What did they do?"

Harry sighed, "When I came here, I tried to remember why I had avoided you the whole year; I couldn't remember any reason. At that time I shrugged it off, I had more pressing matters to deal with. After Riddle was gone, I tried again. This time I felt my thoughts drifting to other things – rather meaningless things too. I forced myself to concentrate upon you; it was – it was as if a veil had been lifted from my memories. I remembered the whole year quite clearly," said Harry. "It started a week into September. After dinner Hermione had excused herself to go to the library. Ron said he wanted to show me something, so I followed him. He took me to Dumbledore's office.

* * *

_**Headmaster's Office: One Year Ago**_

"Ron! What are we doing here?" asked a confused Harry.

"Take a seat, Harry. Lemon Drops?" asked the Headmaster.

Harry sat down shaking his head, "No, thank you, sir. I don't understand – why am I here? I haven't done anything, have I?"

"No Harry, but there is something I must do. I deeply regret this. But it's for the Greater Good."

"Wha-" began a panicked Harry, but before he could finish, Dumbledore had drawn his wand and pointed it at his forehead, _"Legilimens!"_

Harry felt something enter his head. His whole life flashed before his eyes. The Dursleys' abuse, his first year, his encounter with Quirrell/Voldemort, his suspicions about Dumbledore, his summer, his friendship with Ginny – his memories and thoughts played like a video tape in fast forward. At last Dumbledore withdrew from his mind. Harry was panting – his head hurt – he felt dizzy. He took a moment to gather his bearings, before shouting, "YOU INVADED MY MIND! YOU SAW MY MEMORIES! DID YOU ENJOY WHAT YOU SAW? I WAS EXAGGERATING, WAS I? WHERE WAS YOUR STUPID BLOOD PROTECTION WHEN THOSE ANIMALS BEAT ME TO A PULP AND THREW ME INTO A CUPBOARD! YOU'RE WORSE THAN VOLDEMORT! AT LEAST HE DOESN'T HIDE HIS TRUE INTENTIONS! YOU FILTHY – EVIL –"

"Shut up and sit down, Harry." Dumbledore ordered.

Harry found himself obeying without thinking. He hadn't realised he was standing. "I really regret doing all this, Harry. I regret sending you to your relatives. But it was for your own good. I hope you'll realise it someday and forgive me."

Harry was fuming, but he couldn't do anything.

"Now to business, Harry – you'll forget all your suspicions about me. You'll never question me. You'll remember that the block on your magic is natural and will never think about it. You will listen to Mr. Weasley and obey him without question. You'll behave normally and not raise any suspicions. And you'll forget all about this conversation once you step outside the door."

"Yes sir," Harry found himself answering.

* * *

_**Gryffindor Common Room: A Few Days Later**_

"Let's go to dinner, Harry."

"Ron, you go on ahead with Hermione. I want to talk to Ginny. I'll join you later."

"Give us a moment Hermione; I need to talk to Harry." Ron said to Hermione. She walked away, looking suspicious.

"Harry, you'll stay away from Ginny. You won't talk to her. If she tries to talk to you; you'll avoid her. You won't even think of her. And you'll forget this conversation." Ron's voice was commanding.

"Yes." Harry found himself replying.

"Good, now let's go to dinner."

* * *

"I think it was some kind of compulsion potion. It made me obedient to Dumbledore. And he gave this authority to Ron. I managed to fight it off a couple of times – only to be attacked and dosed again, before I could do anything!" Harry was barely controlling his rage.

Ginny didn't have so much of self-control. "THAT FILTHY BASTARD! I'LL KILL HIM IF THAT'S THE LAST THING I DO! AND DUMBLEDORE – HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE THE LEADER OF LIGHT!"

Somehow Ginny's rage had a calming effect on Harry. "Calm down Ginny. There will be time for retribution later. We can't challenge him as we stand. We need to become powerful first. We can't be naïve Gryffindors anymore. We have to embrace our Slytherin sides."

"Did the hat really want to sort you in Slytherin," asked Ginny, after she had calmed down.

"Yes, it did. Does it matter?"

"No. It tried the same with me. I was so afraid that my family would be disappointed in me. I had to beg it to put me in Gryffindor."

There was a pregnant pause.

"I'll follow you Harry, whatever you do." Ginny said with a determined look on her face.

"Are you sure? I mean your family supports Dumbledore blindly. Following me will put you at odds with them."

"I am choosing what I feel is the right path over the easy one," said Ginny. "Now where did I hear this saying again?"

"It's something Dumbledore says. Did you ever talk to him in person?" asked Harry.

"I don't think so." Her face was scrunched up in concentration. "I remember being there once – in his office – but I can't remember anything else. And thinking about it gives me a headache…." She trailed off.

"He probably put a memory charm upon you. I wonder what he said during the meeting."

"Whatever it was, I probably didn't agree."

There was another pause.

"So Harry, what are these suspicions of yours – the ones Dumbledore told you to forget?" asked Ginny.

"Before I tell you, promise me you won't repeat any of this to anybody, your parents, you brothers – anybody at all. I don't know how they will react. We need to find a way to stop them from going to Dumbledore - in case they don't agree with us."

"I understand, Harry. I promise."

"It started on my eleventh birthday. Hagrid came to pick me up from my relatives. The first question arises here. Why Hagrid? It's not his job. Why not McGonagall – like she does for all the muggleborns? At least she could use magic properly!"

Ginny didn't say anything.

"In the light of recent revelations – I can come to only one conclusion. Hagrid is blindly loyal to Dumbledore. He'd do anything he tells him to – without any question – he'd obey him to the last word. I doubt McGonagall would have let Dumbledore rest if she found out that I lived in a – _bleeding_ – cupboard; for the first eleven years of my life. She would have berated him for his decision to place me with those animals! She would have told me a lot more about the wizarding world than Hagrid did. She would have given me an objective view of all the houses, not a biased – Gryffindor-centric view. This could have led to me being sorted in Slytherin – something that probably doesn't fit in his grand scheme of things!"

Ginny was horrified. "You lived in a cupboard?" Harry hadn't told her anything about his life with the Dursleys, except that it wasn't pleasant.

"Can we talk about that later?"

"Okay. But I'm not forgetting about it." She said stubbornly.

"Anyway, moving on to Gringotts' – Hagrid wouldn't let me talk to my accounts manager. His excuse was that he was in a hurry – but wouldn't meet my eyes when he said this. This leads me to believe he was lying. The same happened before the beginning of my second year. This time it was Mrs. Weasley. There _is_ something about my vault that Dumbledore wants to hide."

"You mean mum's involved in this?" asked Ginny.

"Not necessarily. Dumbledore could simply have told her to stop me from talking to goblins - _for my own good_ – no doubt." Harry said bitterly.

"Moving on to King's Cross. Hagrid conveniently forgot to tell me how to get to the platform. A few minutes after my relatives dropped me, your family walked in, talking loudly about muggles. Tell me Ginny, does your mother ask about the platform number every year?"

"It did sound rather odd. I mean the platform number doesn't change every year. And she _was_ talking rather loudly – you don't think…" She looked shocked.

"That our meeting there was set up? That's what I thought. I think it was your mother who was supposed to talk to me, but she got distracted by George. Good thing too, or you'd be nothing more than Ron's little sister to me." Harry smirked.

Ginny blushed. "And I'd still be one of your fan-girls," she mumbled.

It took Harry a moment to process what she had said, "WHAT!"

"Don't be mad Harry. When I was little, mum used to read me bedtime stories about the boy-who-lived. I used to dream of meeting you and –" she buried her face in her hands.

"Looks like someone had a crush on me!" Harry teased her. For some reason he wasn't annoyed to find that Ginny used to be a fan-girl. He was rather amused. He wondered what her reaction was when she found out his last name.

"Don't you dare tease me about that, Harry Potter!" Ginny looked up, glaring. Harry remembered her brothers cowering before her when she did that. He always found it amusing.

"You know, you look quite adorable when you do that," he said, quite seriously, "Would you consider being my girlfriend?" Harry didn't know where that came from, but he had meant it. 'Must be the Gryffindor side of me!' He thought.

Ginny's eyes went wide as saucers. "Do you really mean it?" Then they narrowed, "You were teasing me, weren't you?"

Harry gulped. "N-no. I really meant it. But you should probably wait till you hear the whole story before answering – the path before me is dark and dangerous. I will understand if you don't want to." He finished miserably.

Ginny jumped up and embraced him. "Yes!" She was beaming.

"Are you sure?" Harry couldn't believe it.

"I have already said that I'll follow you, no matter what you do."

Harry was happier than he had ever been in his life. He leant forward on kissed her lightly. She had a goofy grin on her face as he pulled away. She felt like she was in heaven – a feeling that Harry mirrored.

After a few moments, Harry's face became serious, "You do realise that we can't make it public yet, don't you?"

"Why not?" asked a confused Ginny.

"We don't know if keeping us apart was Ron's decision or Dumbledore's. We can handle Ron easily. But if it was Dumbledore, he might do something drastic – like slipping me a love potion or something. I think we should wait until my fourth year at least. Then we will have at least your parents support – I mean, I hope so. Right now, they'll probably say we are too young. And we will be a bit better prepared to handle him."

"But why would Dumbledore want to keep us apart?" asked a confused Ginny.

"Think Ginny, who are my – _best _– friends?" Harry said; disgust evident in his voice.

"Ron and Hermione?" asked Ginny, confused.

"And what kind of people are they?"

"I don't understand…." She looked thoughtful. "Oh! You mean they can easily be controlled!"

"Exactly! I am glad we are on the same wavelength," said Harry. "Muggle saying – meaning our thoughts are similar." he quickly added at Ginny's confused look. "Ron with his jealousy and Hermione with her blind faith in authority. I wonder if she knew any of this…." He trailed off. "You, on the other hand, are more of an independent sort and have a certain disregard for authority. If Dumbledore wants me under his control, he can't have me associating with the likes of you, can he? That's probably why you were in his office – to determine what kind of a person you are and if possible, turn you against me – like Ron. And that's one of the reasons he didn't want me in Slytherin – they don't hero-worship him."

"Harry, if you were given a chance at re-sorting, would you choose Slytherin?" asked Ginny.

"No. But not because of the likes of Malfoy or any other such reason. I'll stay in Gryffindor to avoid the scrutiny the Slytherins face. Much better to play the naïve little Gryffindor, isn't it?" Harry smirked.

"Aren't you the devious one, Mr. Potter? I'm sure Salazar Slytherin himself would be proud of you." Ginny had a matching smirk on her face.

Harry didn't reply. He looked thoughtful. "Do you remember our discussion about the Philosopher's Stone at the Burrow?" Harry had told her about his first year during the summer – minus his suspicions. He had talked about them to Ron and Hermione – both of whom had been sceptical. Harry was afraid it would be the same with Ginny – they were taught to never question Dumbledore.

"I- I think so."

"Do you find anything odd about the whole thing?"

Ginny looked thoughtful. "I think the protection around the stone was rather peculiar. Bill told me that wizards usually place some really nasty curses and wards around the object to be protected. But there was no such thing around the stone. And what was the point of placing the real key in the same room as the door? Or the potion meant to bypass the flames, for that matter? It was like each room was meant for one of you."

"That's what I thought! I did say we are on the same wavelength. It was as if we were expected to go there. The potion in the last room – it was enough for only one person – I was supposed to face him alone! All the protections were bypassed by eleven year-olds, for Merlin's sake. What chance did they stand against Voldemort? If the stone really needed protection, it should have been placed in Dumbledore's office. And why did Hagrid know about it? He can't keep a secret to save his life! No – he knew about it so he could slip us hints – unknowingly of course. The Mirror of Erisad, the invisibility cloak, the detention in the forbidden forest – he sparked my curiosity, gave me enough tools and information to find out about the Stone and enough incentive to face him." Harry finished bitterly.

Ginny was shocked. "But why? You could have died!"

"It was a test. He didn't go to the ministry. There simply wasn't enough time – especially since he decided to fly instead of using the floo or apparating. He was there to monitor how I handled him – to prevent me from getting killed. How is it that he came to my aid just when I fainted?"

"A test? For what?"

"Haven't you guessed? I am a tool – a weapon – to use against Voldemort when he returns – and he will return – before long too."

"How do you know that?" asked Ginny.

"This was the second attempt in two years. How many times do you expect him to fail?" replied Harry.

"But – but why you?"

"I don't know. But there was a reason he attacked us – and no, my parents were not the targets – it was me. They were merely in the way. He even gave my mother a chance to step aside and stay alive! When I asked Dumbledore for the reason, he told me I am too – _young_ – to hear such a horrible truth. You'd think I had the right to know why a lunatic is after me! Now I am beginning to wonder if that ruddy blood protection is a lie as well; he probably just wanted to keep me so downtrodden that I would see him as a saviour." Harry's voice was laced with bitterness.

They were silent for a while.

"What are we going to do now, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"I am going to learn as much magic as I can; become as powerful as I naturally can. I'll face Voldemort when the time comes – I am not going to hide from him – that'll be insulting my parents sacrifice; but it will be on my own terms, not Dumbledore's. I'll fight fire with fire. And Dumbledore – I'll warn him once or twice; if he doesn't stop meddling with my life – let's just say I have no problems with getting rid of him either – he has caused me – and Merlin knows how many others – enough pain to deserve it."

Ginny's mouth was wide open. "You'll kill Dumbledore!" she protested weakly.

"Only if I must. You don't have to follow me, Ginny. You can have a normal life – get married, have kids – whatever you want. You don't have a power hungry maniac and a well-meaning old man after you." Harry finished, trying to put up a brave face, but feeling miserable inside.

"No, I don't have to follow you. But I want to – and I will – after knowing all this, I can't follow Dumbledore in good conscience; and I am definitely not joining V-Voldemort." She said with a shudder, "And I'll be happy as long as I am by your side." Determination was shining on her face. "You asked me to be your girlfriend. No getting rid of me now." She smirked.

He held her in a tight embrace. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Gin. I would be very lonely without you." He finished with a kiss.

"You are getting quite fond of kissing me, Mr. Potter." Ginny smirked.

"And I thought you liked it. Wasn't it a part of your childhood fantasies?" Harry mock pouted.

She swatted him on the head. "I told you not to tease me about that. Now if you are done with kissing me, shall we try and get out of this place?"

"Wait, we need to decide what we are going to tell them. Dumbledore will have a fit if he found out that I used Avada Kedavra."

"Why?"

"It's one of the most heavily punished curses in the wizarding world. If I used against a human, even once, I'd get a lifetime in Azkaban. If Dumbledore finds out that I can use it, he'll probably declare me the next Dark Lord in training."

"Then why did you use it?"

"Are you kidding? We'd both be dead if I hadn't used it."

"I suppose you are right…" She looked thoughtful, "You know what; I think we should find an adult we can trust. Someone who can teach us magic which is not usually taught at Hogwarts. Someone we can ask for advice."

"You are right, Gin. But who..."

"I can help you with that," said a voice from a shadowy corner.

Harry and Ginny jumped and turned around, wands in their hands, "Who are you? Show yourself!"

A handsome young man - about six feet tall, with shoulder length jet black hair and piercing green eyes – stepped forward. Only, he wasn't solid. He looked like Tom Riddle did – when he had called the basilisk.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_ Sorry for the cliff-hanger; but what comes next deserves a whole chapter to itself. Till then, how about a guessing game about who the newcomer is!

Thanks to all the reviewers for your support.

Hope you enjoyed it. Please Review!


	6. The Disgraced Founder

_**Author's Notes: **_Hey, I'm back. Seems like the guess was too easy; most of you guessed correctly. Anyway, going through the last chapter, I realised that a twelve year old declaring he'd revolutionize the whole wizarding world sounds a bit too mature – I mean, he hardly knows the wizarding world! So, for now, Harry is merely concentrating on Voldemort and Dumbledore; revolution will come a bit later. I've made the appropriate changes – if you want, you can go through the last few paragraphs – I'm not posting them here this time. I've also corrected the mistakes that were pointed out.

That said, read, review and most importantly, enjoy.

_**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter and associated characters are NOT mine! So lawyers, keep away!

* * *

"_I can help you with that," said a voice from a shadowy corner._

_Harry and Ginny jumped and turned around, wands in their hands, "Who are you? Show yourself!"_

_A handsome young man – about six feet tall, with shoulder length jet black hair and piercing green eyes – stepped forward. Only, he wasn't solid. He looked like Tom Riddle did – when he had called the basilisk._

_**

* * *

**_

_****__**Chapter 6: The Disgraced Founder**_

"When I was alive, I went by the name of Salazar Slytherin," replied the newcomer.

Harry and Ginny were shocked beyond belief. This was the most famous dark wizard in the history! Harry was the first to regain his wits. He sneered, "So, you came to avenge your heir?"

Slytherin laughed, "If I had wanted that, you wouldn't have woken up. I am not too fond of taunting my victims before killing them."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny, putting a brave face – internally, she was terrified.

"You have nothing to fear from me, little one," replied Slytherin.

This was enough to rile Ginny up. She hated being called little. _"Don't you dare call me little one!"_ Then she realised what she had done – she had threatened Salazar Slytherin himself! She blushed scarlet and tried to hide behind Harry.

"Aren't you the feisty one? Threatening the one you are afraid of! I like your spirit." He laughed again; but it wasn't unpleasant. "Anyway, as I said, I can help you."

"How do we know you aren't luring us into a false sense of security?" asked a cautious Harry.

"You are quite right to be cautious – after all, you were always told that I was the evil one," he said bitterly. "I'll tell you this – when I came to this form, I was solid enough to wield a wand and cast some curses. I could've finished you anytime within the first hour into your unconsciousness. Did you not notice that you were quite warm for someone lying on a cold stone floor? Or that your wounds are healed?"

"Wha-" began Ginny, but Harry cut her off, "How long were we out for?"

"About five hours."

Harry swore. "We need to get out of here quickly before we are declared dead." He looked at Slytherin, "I still don't trust you, but I'll give you a chance to explain. Better make it quick, we are in a hurry."

"Right you are. So what do you want to know?"

"What are you? You can't be the real Salazar Slytherin! And why do you want to help us?" asked Harry.

"When Hogwarts was founded, all four of us decided to leave imprints of ourselves here. It was Rowena's idea – she was the one who worked out the required magic. We had foreseen that someone – probably one of our descendants – would need our help at some point in the future. When I left the castle, Gryffindor tried to remove mine." He smirked, "It was quite funny – watching him get the shock of his life. However, he did manage to put some restrictions upon me..." he trailed off. "I always come here when I sense the Chamber being opened. And no, I couldn't do anything to stop Riddle," he added before Harry could say something. "Thanks to Gryffindor's restrictions; I can't draw magic from Hogwarts to take a corporeal form. What you did to wake her up," he inclined his head towards Ginny, "caused a lot of raw magic to build up around you. I somehow managed to absorb some of it and gain this form." He paused, "I am impressed by the way you fought. I had never imagined Aisa –" he looked at the basilisk's corpse sadly "– being defeated by a twelve year-old!"

"Err – shouldn't you be angry? I killed your basilisk!" Harry blurted out.

"She was gone the day Tom Riddle performed those rituals – to increase her primal killing instincts to a maximum and bind her to himself; basically turning her into a mindless killer. That day, I lost the only friend who had never betrayed me!" replied Slytherin with a hint of anger in his voice. "You merely put her out of her misery."

"But why did you put her in the school?" asked Harry.

"To protect the students. Before I left, I instructed her to defend the castle against any invasion. Why do you think that the castle was never breached; despite several attempts – by muggles and self proclaimed dark lords?" Slytherin replied. "Before Tom Riddle came along, she was a very intelligent creature. She could destroy an entire army without being seen!"

There was a moments silence while the children digested the information. It was Ginny who broke it.

"Err – Mr. Slytherin?" Ginny spoke hesitantly.

"Call me Salazar, little one!" replied Slytherin.

Ginny blushed but didn't retort, "Why do you hate the muggleborns?"

Slytherin's face darkened, "I don't hate muggleborns. I pity them. Imagine being the perfect little angel of your parents for the first few years of your life; and then – with the first bout of accidental magic – it's all gone – you are the incarnation of devil himself – meant to be tortured and killed – by your own parents too – who keep saying how much they regret it! No, it's the muggles I hate. They are like animals – most of them anyway. They took away everything I held dear to me."

He looked at Ginny with scrutinizing eyes, as if debating whether or not to say any more. "When I was seven, my mother was burned at the stake by the muggles. My father had already been killed in a duel – about a year earlier. I was left to fend for myself – along with a two year old sister – Selviya. An old wand-maker – by the name of Julius Ollivander – helped us. He gave us food and shelter – took me as his apprentice – taught me wand-making and magic. Slowly, my fame as a wand maker grew. By the time I was sixteen, it rivalled that of Octavius Ollivander – the most well known wand-maker of the time – Jullius' grandson – who had abandoned him to die of old age. Julius himself had been a master wand-maker in his youth. Anyway, I learnt quite a lot of magic from some of my regular clients. All in all, I was happy."

He sighed, "Apparently, the Fates didn't like it. It was the eve of my seventeenth birthday when the tragedy struck. I was out delivering some wands and Julius was visiting an old friend in a neighbouring village. When I returned, I found Selviya tied to the stake near the village square, bloody and naked. Later, I found out that she was raped by at least twelve men – _one for each year of her sinful existence!_" Slytherin eyes were blazing with anger. "In my rage, I killed them all; but I couldn't save her. She died hours later."

It took a while before Slytherin calmed down. "After that there was nothing left for me in the village. I left most of the money I had earned from wand-making for Julius and departed – a few days after Selviya's funeral. During the next few years, I travelled different parts of the country and continent, learning different types of magic. By the time I turned thirty, I had earned a quite a reputation for myself." He smiled, "I had killed several muggles whom I found attacking witches and wizards, defeated five self-styled dark lords and showed no qualms about using so called dark magic."

He paused, "I met many famous witches and wizards during my travels – including the remaining three. At first, they had some reservations against me – a supposedly dark wizard. But we became friends pretty quickly; especially me and Godric. The idea of a school for magic came from a joke Godric had told; but it stuck – and became our dream. After four long years of hard work, we were able to acquire the castle and make it usable as a school. And thus Hogwarts came into existence. Over time, it gained fame all over Europe and in some parts of Asia too. It was going pretty smoothly. I had even regained some semblance of happiness."

He sighed again, "Forty-two years had passed since the founding of Hogwarts. I had had many arguments with Godric about some of the controversial topics – like the use of dark magic and killing of muggles who attacked witches and wizards. You see, I was not a cold blooded murderer; I never advocated mass muggle killing – however, I did advocate killing anybody – wizard or muggle – who had killed an innocent being for a something they had no control over – this includes witches and wizards, werewolves, vampires and muggles themselves – for the lack of magic. I could put my hatred for muggles at bay if they were willing to cooperate. I merely believed in '_fighting fire with fire_' as you yourself put it."

He continued after a moments pause, "One night, I was out of the castle on an errand when I found another witch – about fifteen or sixteen years old – about to be burned after she had faced the same fate as my sister. I hadn't meant to kill them – not because I didn't want to – but out of respect for Godric – but when I saw her like that – I just lost control. When I returned to the castle with the girl; Godric was waiting for me in the entrance hall – I tried to explain myself, but he wouldn't listen. It turned out that the youngest of my sons – who had accompanied me – whom I had forgotten all about in my rage – had returned before me. He had told Godric all about the incident, in great details – and everything else I had kept hidden from him – things like the Chamber, Aisa, a special wand I was working upon and many others... Apparently he was terrified of me – my own son!" He said sadly.

"I tried to explain everything – how I hadn't meant any harm, but he would have none of it. As soon as the girl was taken to the hospital wing, he started throwing insults; accusing me of treachery, backstabbing and Merlin knows what else. I was barely keeping my anger at those muggles in check; and the words my _best friend_ was sprouting… they were just too much – he had thrown away nearly fifty years of friendship without even listening to my side of story! I snapped; I said some things I shouldn't have. Before I knew it, our wands were out and we were dueling."

He shook his head, as if trying to shake away the bad memories, before speaking, "Despite my anger, I didn't lose my head – I never aimed to kill him – something that can't be said about him; he was coming at me with everything he had – aiming to kill me! Had I wanted to, I could have easily finished him off – I had a basilisk, a huge collection of spells and most importantly an extremely powerful – supposedly unbeatable – wand at my disposal! Needless to say, I emerged victorious! But looking at the faces of other two, who had arrived sometime during the duel – I realised I wasn't welcome here anymore – so I decided to leave. What hurt me most was that even my wife was looking at me with contempt. When my eldest son heard about what had happened, he killed his brother in a fit of rage and disappeared; I never saw him again. He was probably the one who started the anti-muggle sentiments – which were later twisted into anti-muggleborn sentiments. He is probably the one whose line produced Tom Riddle."

He paused again, "I, on the other hand, resumed my travels – learning more magic and helping witches and wizards. I also helped found the Durmstrang Academy of Magic; I even taught there for a few years – but it never felt the same as Hogwarts. I used to come here from time to time – in secret – to takes a look at how things were going and to impart the additions to my knowledge to the imprint. Last time I came here was when I was one hundred and forty eight years old. I still wonder how I died – it was definitely not from old age – for I was perfectly healthy at that time…." Slytherin finished with a look of great sadness on his face.

Harry's brain was reeling; so this was what had happened all those years ago! Harry didn't know how he knew it, but somehow, he knew that Slytherin wasn't lying. Ginny was merely staring at him with wide eyes. Nobody spoke for some time. Again it was Ginny who broke it.

"You have gotten more transparent," she remarked.

Slytherin smiled, "It's expected, little one. I, unlike Tom, am not sucking at someone's life force to maintain this body. I am made of leftover magic from your bonding. I have a few more hours before I completely disappear."

"Wait, what bonding?" asked Harry.

"I'll explain later. But first, I'll answer your original question. I'm not too sure why I want to help you. To some extent, you remind me of myself." He paused, as if waiting for Harry to say something. When he didn't, he continued, "Then there is the fact that I don't like my _dear_ heir anymore than you do; he destroyed Aisa, for Merlin's sake!" He took a deep breath, "And besides everything, I want someone to know that I wasn't as bad as I am portrayed!" His voice carried a hint of desperation.

Harry thought for a moment. "Alright, I'll accept your offer of help. But how will you help us? You said you only had a few more hours?"

"Don't worry about that right now. For now, think of a nice cover story and get out of here. When your magic levels are restored, go to the seventh floor; opposite the tapestry of depicting an idiot trying to train some trolls for the ballet, you'll find a stretch of blank wall. Place your palm near its centre and say that you want to find my office, in parseltongue. Make sure nobody follows you, except for her." He said, nodding towards Ginny.

"Wait, didn't you say Dumbledore read your mind? What if he finds out we are lying?" Ginny asked Harry. "I mean, there is a very good chance that he's come back, isn't there?"

"Hmm... that can be a problem." Slytherin said thoughtfully, "I can shield your mind; show him false vision supporting your story, but you'll have to let me possess you." Harry looked alarmed, "Don't worry; I won't take control of you – except when you are attacked – mentally or physically. Besides I'll be able to determine what spells and potions are being used to control you." At Harry's questioning look, he added, "I'm made of magic – I can sense magic." He continued at Harry's nod, "But we'll have to do it quickly – I have merely over two hours left; after that I'll be too weak to help you – you don't have enough magic left to sustain me without killing yourself."

"And what about Ginny?" asked Harry.

"You can play the distraught little girl." He said to Ginny. At Ginny's smirk, he added, "Make sure to avoid eye-contact with anyone – eye contact is essential for Legilimency – the mind-reading thing." He added quickly, at Ginny's questioning look.

"So, for the cover story…" Harry began.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Harry was leading a sobbing Ginny towards McGonagall's office when they were greeted by a strange sight. Lockhart was pinned against wall with Fred and George's wands pointed at him.

"Now look here boys – as I told your brother, I'm _trying_ to find the entrance to the Chamber." Lockhart was saying.

"That was hours ago. Didn't you say…"

"…you already knew where it is?"

"Err – it seems – I mean – I was mistaken – now if you'll leave me alone, I'll go find it." Lockhart tried to get away, only to find Harry and Ginny blocking his path.

"Really _Professor,_" Harry pulled out his wand, "then what are _those_ doing here?" He said, pointing towards the two trunks lying about twenty feet away in the corridor. "Hmm….seems like someone's trying to run away." Fred and George – who were gawking at Harry and Ginny – turned around to look at Lockhart, murderous glares in their eyes.

"Now look here boys, this is no way to treat a Professor…" Lockhart was trying to regain some of his dignity, but was silenced by the looks on the students' faces.

"I always knew you were a fraud, Lockhart. How did you write those books? Don't tell me it is all fiction!"

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, frowning at Harry. "Do use your common sense – no one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover – no dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on –"

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" said Harry, outraged.

"Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, shaking his head, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down – ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did – modify the details to suit my personality. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame; you have to be prepared for a long hard slog. Look at yourself! Who would want to see a skinny, twelve year-old boy on the cover of a book dealing with the adventure in the legendary Chamber of Secrets? No, they'd want to see me, the great Gilderoy Lockhart, saving the day again. Now, I'm sure we can reach a compromise – how about…"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Fury was building up inside him. The stupid idiot wanted to make money out of the ordeal they had suffered. Forgetting Fred and George were still there; he pointed his wand at Lockhart and cried –

"_Petrificus Totalus__! Crucio!"_

Lockhart fell to the ground, his body rigid. Only his eyes betrayed the pain he was feeling. But Harry couldn't hold the curse for long. Soon, he was panting from magical exhaustion. Looking around, he found Fred and George still looking murderously upon Lockhart. Ginny was doing the same. They probably didn't know about the Cruciatus Curse. "Fred, could you tie him up and silence him? We'll deal with him later." He said. Fred nodded and proceeded to do so. George went on to hug Ginny, who was trying to get the distraught little girl look back on her face. "What happened? We thought you were dead for sure!" He asked.

"We'll explain later! We need to get to McGonagall's office first!" said Harry

"We should go to Dumbledore's office – yes, he has returned," said George, mistaking the look on Harry's face for confusion. "Mum and Dad are there; and the Professors too."

Fred had returned after binding Lockhart and chucking him in a broom closet – along with his trunks. "Listen Fred, George – I'd be grateful if you don't mention the curse I used upon him…"

"No problem, Harry, the filthy git…"

"…deserved more than whatever…"

"…you did to him! We never saw…"

"…you cast any curse other than…"

"…the Full-Body-Bind!" The twins finished.

"Don't look into Dumbledore's eyes for too long, he can read your minds!" warned Harry.

The twins laughed. "Don't worry young Harry…"

"…we already know that…"

"…What _you _don't know is…"

"…old Slimeball can do it too. So we know…"

"…how to protect ourselves!"

"What! Snape can do it too?" Harry was shocked. Now he'd have to look out for two mind-readers.

At last, they reached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. Fred gave the password – _Fizzing Whizzbee_ – and it hopped aside to reveal the spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. After they had stepped onto it, they rose upwards in circles, higher and higher, until they reached a gleaming oak door, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

Stepping off the stone staircase, Harry knocked on the door. A grave voice said, "Enter!"

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_ I really didn't want to end it here, but I'm simply too tired to type any more and I don't want to delay posting it anymore!

Despite putting my best efforts, I'm still not fully satisfied with this chapter. I'll come back and improve it if I get a brainwave. If someone has some ideas, please let me know.

And finally – I really don't want to say this – but after 11k+ hits, 5k+ visitors, 84 favourites and 141 alerts – I'd expect a lot more than 93 reviews. While I write for fun, it's always good to know that your work is appreciated. It can't be that difficult to click a button and type a couple of sentences, can it?

Anyway, the ones who reviewed – you have my unending gratitude!

* * *

_**Do you think Dumbledore should die in this story? If yes, who should do it? Harry, Ginny, Snape, Voldemort or someone else? If no, what should be his fate?**_

Hope you enjoyed it. Please Review!


	7. The Extent of Damage

_**Author's Notes: **_Sorry for the delay, I was busy with a college project. It's still going on, so I am not sure when I'll post next time. I'll try to make it as quick as possible.

About the question I asked in the last chapter, Dumbledore is not going to die anytime soon! If I decide to kill him, it will be towards the end!

That said, read, review and most importantly, enjoy.

_**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter and associated characters are NOT mine! So lawyers, keep away!

_

* * *

At last, they reached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. Fred gave the password – Fizzing Whizzbee – and it hopped aside to reveal the spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. After they had stepped onto it, they rose upwards in circles, higher and higher, until they reached a gleaming oak door, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin._

_Stepping off the stone staircase, Harry knocked on the door. A grave voice said, "Enter!"

* * *

_

_**Chapter 7: The Extent of Damage**_

There was a moment of stunned silence as Harry, Ginny and the twins stood in the doorway. Then there was a scream.

"Ginny!"

It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting, crying near the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

Harry, however, was looking past them. The old man was standing by the mantelpiece, looking immensely relieved, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Moments later Harry found himself being swept into Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace.

"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Professor McGonagall weakly.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and placed upon it what remained of Riddle's diary and one of the basilisk's fangs they had brought with them. Then he started telling them _everything_. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence – he told them about hearing the disembodied voice; how they had finally realized that he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how he had talked to Fat Friar, who had told him that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim fifty years ago; how Myrtle's retelling of her death had led him to find the entrance…

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, "so you found out where the entrance was – breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add – but how on earth did you get out of there alive, Potter?"

Harry hesitated – this was the moment – despite Salazar's reassurances, he was afraid the Headmaster might see through him. Well, it was too late to change his mind now – he had to go with the plan. Taking a deep breath, he retold the story truthfully, only making it sound like he didn't know what _Avada Kedavra _actually was – just some random spell Quirrell had tried to use upon him. They had decided to go with half-truths instead of outright lies to avoid being caught if someone checked his wand. Salazar's part was to shield Harry's mind and project false visions and thoughts in case Dumbledore suspected there was more to the story and decided to probe Harry's mind. As a spur of the moment thing, Harry added that he had felt completely exhausted after the curse and dropped his wand – only to be picked up by Riddle. That would explain the Cruciatus Curse. He also avoided any mention of the bonding; he wasn't sure what it meant and wasn't keen on letting the old man take advantage of it. He merely said that he had passed out due to exhaustion. They had given themselves some cuts and bruises to avoid any suspicions. When he finished, Dumbledore's face was devoid of any colour.

"Do you have any idea what you have done, Harry?" He asked.

"Err – I don't understand, Professor." He arranged his features to show confusion; Salazar projected the same in his mind.

"The curse you used – _Avada Kedavra_, the Killing Curse – it is among the worst of the Dark Arts – the punishment for using it, even once, is a lifetime in Azkaban – the wizarding prison," replied Dumbledore, not expecting Harry to know about Azkaban.

'Forgot to mention _'against a human'_ part, the old coot,' thought Harry.

"For Merlin's sake, Albus! It was life and death matter! Besides, using it against a dangerous beast is not a crime." McGonagall said, sounding a bit annoyed.

"Be as it may Minerva, but being capable of casting it – at twelve! It needs deep hatred to work! You need the murderous intent…" he trailed off, still looking grave.

"I'm really sorry, sir – I didn't know any of it. I was really desperate… nothing else was working… I'm sorry…" said Harry, trying to sound remorseful. Salazar projected the emotion in his mind, for Dumbledore was looking straight into his eyes. Finally he nodded, "Alright, Harry, I'm willing to overlook this one incident – as long as you feel the remorse for your actions. Never do it again!" He finished sternly.

Harry nodded, "Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore continued in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest – and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate – I always find that cheers me up," he added, looking kindly down at her. But Harry didn't fail to notice the momentary frown that had appeared on his face.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out of the office, followed by Fred and George. Harry tried to follow them, only to be stopped by Dumbledore.

"Harry, if you'll wait for a moment, please! I need to talk to you."

Harry had to turn back – he had no choice. 'Well, at least McGonagall is here,' he thought.

"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?" Harry heart sank – Dumbledore wanted him alone!

"Right," said Professor McGonagall crisply, moving to the door.

After she had closed the door behind her, Dumbledore sat down; motioning for Harry to do the same. They sat in silence for a while before Dumbledore spoke, his voice stern, "Now, why don't you tell me where did you learn to cast the Killing Curse, Harry?"

"Err – sir, you see – last year when I was facing Quirrell – he tried to use it upon me." Harry said. Internally, he was seething. He knew Dumbledore had seen the encounter – live as well as in his memories. The nerve of that old man! Bottling up his anger for the moment, he asked – in what he hoped was a meek tone, "Sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to visit the Hospital Wing. I have got some injuries too. Surely, we can talk later?"

Dumbledore gave no signs of having heard him, "It appears that you haven't been entirely truthful this evening, Harry. A powerful spell was cast using you wand minutes before you came here – there are very few legal spells that need so much power; none of which you should know about! What did you do? Answer me!"

Harry paled; how did the Headmaster know about it? "Err –" He couldn't say anything.

"I see – I had hoped it wouldn't come to this…" he pulled out his wand, "Forgive me, Harry, but it's for the Greater Good. I hope you'll appreciate it someday…" He finished, pointing it at Harry's forehead –

"_Legilimens!"_

Harry had felt Salazar trying to take over as soon as he saw Dumbledore draw his wand – he didn't resist. As a result, he had moved from his position before Dumbledore even finished the curse. Next moment his wand was out, pointed at Dumbledore –

"_Expelliarmus! __Stupefy__!__"_

Dumbledore wasn't expecting this; he was hit by both the spells! As Harry pocketed his holly wand and replaced it with Dumbledore's, he felt a great surge of power course through him. He felt himself point it at Dumbledore's forehead, concentrate upon a fake memory and murmur, _"__Muto Memoria__!"_ followed by_ "Confundus!"_

Though he had never heard of either spell, he somehow knew he had just modified the Headmaster's memories and confounded him. Placing the wand in Dumbledore's hand, he took out his own and revived him.

"Are you all right sir?" He asked in a concerned voice.

Dumbledore shook his head to clear it, "Oh, Harry, is there anything else you wanted to ask?"

"Err – yes, I mean no – no, sir," replied Harry, relieved that the memory modification had worked.

"Then off you go, my boy – Madam Pomfrey will have my hide for keeping you!" he finished, chuckling.

* * *

Harry made a detour to the broom closet currently housing Gilderoy Lockhart on his way to hospital wing and modified his memory of the incident before stunning him again and locking the cupboard; he'd deal with him later. As he entered the hospital wing, he felt the presence of Salazar leaving him, with a parting message, "Come as soon as you can, the situation is worse than you think!"

"Oh, Mr. Potter, I was wondering when I'll see you again!" It was Madam Pomfrey, looking annoyed.

"I already told you to permanently reserve a bed for me, Madam Pomfrey!" Harry replied cheekily.

She huffed and ushered him to the bed next to Ginny's, which was surrounded by the Weasleys. She quickly performed some diagnostic and healing spells and forced some foul smelling potions down his throat. He felt his eyelids droop – the last thing he heard before he was fast asleep was Madam Pomfrey muttering about reckless boys and bad cases of magical exhaustion.

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning to find the hospital wing deserted. For a moment, he debated whether he should sneak out without informing Madam Pomfrey; but before he could even get out of his bed, the said matron came out of her office and made a beeline for him. Harry wondered if she had put up a charm to alert her when he woke up!

"Ah, you are awake, Mr. Potter!" She performed her diagnostic charms and asked him some questions. Finally, she seemed satisfied with the results. "You are free to go Mr. Potter. Make sure I don't see you anywhere near this place for the rest of the term!" She finished in a stern voice.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," he replied before quickly changing out of the hospital clothes and leaving. As he reached the corridor leading to the Fat Lady portrait, he was nearly bowled over by a happy redhead.

"Harry, you are awake! I was about to come and wake you up! I saved you some breakfast!" said an excited Ginny; after she had released him from a bone crushing hug – well, as bone crushing as an eleven year-old can give.

Harry kissed her on the forehead, "Good Morning to you too, Gin! What's got you so excited?"

"It's Lockhart! The stupid git was somehow found by Professor Sprout." At the worried look on Harry's face, she added, "No need to worry; apparently, he told them that he was attacked from behind." Harry looked relieved – the memory charm had worked! "Anyway, Snape probably slipped him some truth potion and asked him the same question you did, loudly – and in the Great Hall too! The stupid git blurted out all about his memory charms – and the crimes he has committed using them." Her face darkened, "Let's just say he'll be spending a large portion of his remaining life in Azkaban – serves him right! The look on Dumbledore's face was priceless! I wonder how mum will take it…" she finished dreamily.

Together, they went to the Gryffindor common room. It was nearly empty – most of the students had gone to their classes. Harry, Ginny and the victims of the basilisk – who had been revived last night – had been given a week off to recover from their ordeals. Harry told Ginny to wait for him while he took a shower.

* * *

Harry came down the boys' staircase, about half an hour later – only to be tackled into a hug by a beaming Hermione. "Harry, you did it! I knew you could!"

Harry reluctantly returned the hug. He wasn't sure of Hermione's role in controlling him – but since Dumbledore hadn't decided to keep her away from him, he was sure that she was playing some role in it. He decided to treat her like he normally did, but with caution – he couldn't give away the fact that he knew of their deception. He'd have to do the same with Ron till they were ready to deal with him. Looking at Ginny, he found her frowning at Hermione – she was probably thinking the same.

"I'm glad you are awake, Hermione!" said Harry, he sincerely hoped she wasn't involved in the mess; he didn't want to lose her as well.

He quickly excused himself after promising to tell her the full details of what happened in the Chamber at a later time. She looked somewhat hurt; but a mention of all the classes she had missed had her running to the library. Shaking his head at Hermione's predictability, he motioned for Ginny to follow him.

Once they were out of the Gryffindor tower, Harry took out his invisibility cloak and threw it over himself and Ginny. They quickly ducked behind the tapestry concealing a secret passageway that would lead them to the other side of the castle – very close to the place Salazar had told them to go to. They were halfway through when Ginny asked, "Harry, where are we going?"

"To meet Salazar," replied Harry.

"Right now? Shouldn't we go at night or something? What if someone realises that we are missing – especially Hermione?" asked Ginny.

"I thought of that, Gin, but he asked me to come as soon as I could and that things are worse than I thought," replied Harry.

They walked for a few moments in silence before she asked, "So what do you think of her, Harry?"

Harry stopped before answering, "Hermione?" At Ginny's nod he continued, "I'm not too sure, Gin – I really don't want to think that she's involved in all this – I'd hate to lose her as well – but Dumbledore didn't attempt to separate her from me – there has to be a reason for it. There is even a chance that she is doing things against her will – like I was. But I'm not taking any chances; until I'm sure of her intentions, I'll treat her with caution."

Ginny looked thoughtful, "I'm not too sure, Harry, but it seemed like she wanted to say something, she looked somewhat nervous – or maybe, afraid of something. And she _was_ rather insistent upon going for a walk with you…"

"Probably to hex me and dose me with the potion when we were alone," he shook his head, "Ginny, I'll give her a chance when I can ensure that she won't spill the beans; until then, I'll just observe her – them," he corrected himself.

They continued their walk in silence. When they reached the other end, they checked the corridor to see if the coast was clear – fortunately it was. So, they had no trouble reaching the designed spot. Harry cautiously stepped out of the cloak and placed the palm of his right hand on what he supposed was the centre of the blank stretch of wall and said in a faint hiss, _"I want to find Salazar Slytherin's office."_

A small door appeared on the wall. Harry pushed it open – expecting to find an office similar to Snape's – dark and gloomy; but he was pleasantly surprised – the room was similar to the Headmaster's office – large and circular. It was decorated in Slytherin colours – green and silver. Going by the windows, he was sure this room was nowhere near the dungeons.

It was a few moments before they realised that someone was standing in the middle of the room – a very transparent looking someone – Salazar Slytherin. He was smiling at the look of awe on the children's faces. "Welcome to my humble abode, _little ones_!" he emphasized on the last part.

"Hello Salazar," chorused Harry and Ginny.

"Seems like you are already learning the lesson!" Salazar said, motioning for them to sit down.

"What lesson?" asked Harry, once they had occupied the indicated chairs.

"The lesson to keep your temper in check – the lesson to never allow anyone to get under your skin – it can be fatal in a battle. I'm talking about what you did to Lockhart," he added at children's confused looks.

"But he deserved that!" protested Harry.

"I agree whole-heartedly – especially after the enlightening revelations in the Great Hall this morning, I'd say he deserved worse. But the thing is – you have to be subtle. What if the twins had not agreed to keep quiet? What if there was a portrait or ghost near the area? And don't tell me you checked for them – I was inside your head, remember?" Salazar pointed at Harry's forehead, "What I'm trying to say is that you should not give in to your temper, your rage," his face darkened, "I made this mistake once, and it turned out to be my downfall – learn from my failures, Harry – or you'll meet the same fate as me! Learn to keep your head despite your anger! The same is true is about any kind of emotion! I'm not telling you to be an emotionless jerk – just don't allow them to rule you – and don't allow anyone to take advantage of them!"

Harry nodded sheepishly, but he quickly recovered, "But how did Dumbledore know about that?"

Ginny quickly turned towards him, "He knew?"

"Not exactly, he just knew that that a powerful curse had been cast using your wand – which brings us to another major issue – I checked for the magic being used to control you – and the results were rather disturbing – that's why I told you to come quickly." He finished.

"What do you mean?" asked both Harry and Ginny, simultaneously.

"There is no easy way to break it – but from what I have seen, I'd say the Headmaster is planning on either getting you killed in the end or turning you into a mindless puppet with no free will," Salazar shook his head sadly.

"What do you mean?" Harry had suspected something along similar lines, but having it confirmed only made it worse. Ginny, on the other hand, was too shocked to say anything.

"Let's see – the compulsion potion used upon you is the type that permanently robs a person of his free will over time. It's a miracle you managed to fight it off – it testifies your extraordinary willpower. The sole reason for its invention was to control slaves!" Salazar paused to let the information sink in, "There is another potion in your system to keep your natural mental shields down; you are a natural at Mind Arts – just like I was. Under ordinary circumstances, it would take a lot of effort to read your thoughts." He paused again, for Harry and Ginny were trying very hard to control their tempers. After they had calmed down, he continued, "There are multiple tracking charms on your glasses and wand – that's how he knew about the curse – thankfully he didn't know the nature of the curse – or it would have been more difficult to do damage control."

"You mean – he knows we are here?" asked Ginny.

"No, this office has wards to block such charms," replied Salazar.

There was a pause before Harry spoke, "There is more, isn't there?"

Salazar nodded, "There are several memory blocks in your mind. Then the block on your magic – it's a seven stage block – one of the worst. It can't be released at once – or the magical backlash would kill you and anyone in the immediate vicinity. We'll have to release it one stage at a time over the next year – giving you adequate time to adjust to the extra magic. Fortunately, you managed to break through two of them in the Chamber – most of the released magic went into waking her up," he said, looking at Ginny, "and bringing me to the physical form, that's why you were not killed on the spot."

Harry was beyond furious. "For the first time in my life, I had the chance to excel at something, without the fear of being punished for being better than Dudley – that meddling old codger! No, I don't intend to spare him anymore – he's going to die – and I'll make it as painful as I can!"

"I agree with you Harry. There is nothing that can excuses the things he has done. He is just like Tom, only a lot more subtle," said Ginny. She had never expected Dumbledore to go this far! And to think that her parents followed him blindly! She felt disgusted.

It took a while for them to calm down. Salazar himself seemed to be pretty angry. Once they had calmed down, he continued, "That's all I could find out that could be linked to the Headmaster. However there's one more thing – which makes me believe he intends to get you killed in the end." When Harry didn't say anything, he continued, "What do you think of Tom Riddle's diary?"

"Err – that wasn't just a memory, was it?" asked a confused Harry. He didn't think a mere memory could resurrect Voldemort.

Ginny turned towards him, "What do you mean?"

"No, a memory can't resurrect anyone – it was something much more sinister. I couldn't investigate it closely before it was destroyed, but I'm pretty sure it was a Horcrux," replied Salazar. At the children's confused looks he elaborated, "It's one of the vilest things invented by wizardkind. You see – a Horcrux is an object in which someone has concealed a part of their soul. You split your soul and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if your body is attacked or destroyed, you can't die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged." He paused, "The soul is supposed to remain intact and whole – splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

Ginny was horrified. "It was a piece of his soul!" she said weakly.

Salazar looked grim. "I'm afraid it was. I believe his plan was to create a temporary body using your magic and perform some ritual to create a real body."

"So that's why he didn't die when the Killing Curse rebounded!" said Harry. "But it's destroyed, isn't it? That means he can be killed for good this time, doesn't it?"

"Unfortunately, no – there is always a chance that he created more – especially if he threw away the first one so casually. I know for sure that there is at least one more," replied Salazar.

"What? Where is it?" asked Harry and Ginny, simultaneously.

Salazar hesitated for a moment, "There is a fragment of his soul inside you," he said, pointing at Harry's scar, "But the Horcrux isn't complete. The soul not properly bound to your body – I believe it was a not created intentionally – it was probably a side-effect of the failed curse. A good thing too – or he could easily take control of you whenever he wanted – and it would have been nearly impossible to remove without killing you. As it stands, it can be removed rather easily. The Headmaster either doesn't know this – or he has some ulterior motives. Had your magic not been bound, there is a very good chance that the soul fragment would have been expelled years ago – but now that it has gained some foothold – the removal is likely to be rather painful."

Harry's expression changed from that of utter horror to relief to pure rage through the explanation. Every bad thing that had happened to him could be traced to Dumbledore. The old bastard will pay – in blood!

Ginny's face mirrored Harry's. She jumped up and hugged him tightly. There were no words spoken – they were not needed. After a while, when they had calmed down, she sat down upon his lap, instead of going back to her chair.

"Is that why I can speak Parseltongue?" asked Harry, feeling disgusted at having a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him.

"I can't be sure. There is a barrier around it which keeps it dormant – probably your mother's doing – it is some form of blood magic I'm not familiar with. So, there is a very good chance that you were born a Parselmouth. Had it come from him, you would have received some of his memories and other abilities too. Even it did come from him, you won't lose it when it's removed – it's a part of you now." Salazar replied.

"So when can we get rid of this soul fragment?" asked Harry, with a determined look on his face.

"Not so fast! We'll need to do some research before that! I think we should wait at least until your magic is fully unblocked – maybe even later. We can't allow it to try and take over your body. And don't worry; it can't harm you as it is. In fact, if we do it properly, we can even use it to our advantage," replied Salazar.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry and Ginny, simultaneously.

"Think about it – it contains all his memories till the day he tried to kill you. If we can trap it, we can study it to find out many of his secrets – like the location of the remaining Horcruxes, if there are any. And when he comes back, we may even have a way to look into his mind – the pieces of a soul are said to share some sort of connection! There are several possibilities. In short, we will be able to command a piece of him! And we'll get a rare opportunity to study a soul and unlock its mysteries!" Salazar looked very excited at the prospect. "This is another lesson you need to learn – try and make the best out of every situation – things rarely go exactly the way we want them to. There is a fragment of Tom's soul inside you – there is nothing you can do to change the fact. So instead of moping around, feeling dirty and contaminated – try and think of how you can use it to your advantage!"

"Hey, I wasn't moping around," protested Harry.

"Sure – and I was never a teenager," replied an amused Salazar. Ginny merely smirked.

Harry scowled at them. "If you are done picking on me, can we continue our discussion?"

"It's almost the time for lunch. It'll look suspicious if you are both missing. Better come back later, maybe tonight or tomorrow," said Salazar, looking at the clock hanging above the mantelpiece.

"About that – what if they spike our food again?" asked Harry.

Salazar frowned, "I can teach you a simple spell which will reveal if there is anything magical in the food – but some magical herbs are used in cooking – so you'll have to forgo some of the dishes. And don't perform it using your own wands, it may be tracked. There," he pointed to one of the shelves, "you'll find some wands in that box. Find the ones that suit you best. They are not the best I made, but they'll have to do for now. We'll talk about making you new wands later. And keep them hidden – I heard someone saying that keeping two wands without prior ministry permission is illegal. Those idiots – the lengths they'll go to curb people's freedom! It's a wonder that there haven't been more dark lords and rebels!" He muttered darkly.

While Salazar was going on about the ministry, Harry and Ginny were searching for the right wand. It didn't take very long – there weren't many options. The one that Harry chose didn't feel as good as his phoenix feather wand, but it was still better than the rest. The label told that it was made of maple with unicorn hair soaked in basilisk venom. Ginny was a different story, her original wand was second-hand; the one she chose worked a lot better – it was made of redwood and dragon heartstring.

"Err – Salazar, when I touched Dumbledore's wand, it felt – it felt a lot better than my own. I felt a great power course through me. Do you have any idea why?" asked Harry.

"That's because it's the most powerful wand that ever existed. You'll have to take it from him if you wish to defeat him. I'll explain more when you come next time," replied Salazar.

Harry nodded, wondering how he'd take Dumbledore's wand.

Salazar proceeded to teach them the spell to detect any magical items in the food. When they were done, Ginny asked, "Could you check if there are any spells or potions used on me."

"Are you sure? I'll have to possess you, which means I'm bound to see at least some of your memories."

Ginny thought for a moment, "It's okay – it's more important than some stupid memories."

Salazar possessed her for about five minutes. When he emerged, he said, "There are no spells on you, other than some mild memory charms. They can be broken rather easily. If there were any, Riddle probably removed them. But there is something in your pocket which has several tracking charms on it."

Ginny proceeded to take out the invisibility clock from her pocket. Salazar's eyes went wide for a moment before returning to normal, "Where did you get it?" he asked.

"It was my father's. Dumbledore gave it to me in my first year," replied Harry.

Salazar nodded – his suspicions were confirmed. "Whatever happens, don't lose it. Don't let the Headmaster take it back – it's not an ordinary invisibility cloak. I've seen it before – it's one of the Deathly Hallows!"

"What are the Deathly Hallows?" asked a confused Harry.

Ginny, on the other hand, was staring at the cloak, wide eyed, "But they are a myth – the Hallows!"

"No, they are not. I have seen all three of them. The wand Dumbledore wields is the Elder Wand!" said Salazar. He looked thoughtful, "Listen, I'll explain more when you return. For now you can tell him the legend behind them." He said, nodding towards Harry, who was looking very confused by now.

"I'll tell you on the way back, Harry," said Ginny.

"And before you leave, it would be wise if we transfer the tracking charms on your glasses and the cloak to something else – something you can leave behind when you don't want to be found."

Harry quickly took out a Knut, a Sickle and a Galleon from his pocket and proceeded to do as Salazar directed. It took four tries to get it right. When they were done the Galleon represented the glasses while the Sickle represented the cloak. He was about to repeat the same procedure with the Knut and his wand when Salazar stopped him.

"It would be better if you leave them as they are. They are not only location tracking charms like the ones you removed. It will take a lot of effort to separate them from the other charms – like the one that tells the amount of power being channeled through it – and there is a good chance that it'll take more than one attempt. We don't want to accidentally remove anything other than the location tracking charms – it will look very suspicious if the instrument linked to the power tracking charm stops responding. No, it would be better to leave that wand behind," he explained.

The children nodded before getting up and moving out. Harry was dreading going to lunch – he'd have to face Ron for the first time after the Chamber; and he wasn't sure of his self-control.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_ Thanks to all the reviewers. It really feels great to know that my story is appreciated.

Don't worry about Dobby, I haven't forgotten about him. I always found it odd that Lucius Malfoy brought him to Hogwarts – I mean what was the point? So Dobby's liberation will be a bit later – and in what I hope is a more convincing manner.

_**

* * *

Do you think Harry should be an Animagus? If yes, comment upon his form(s).**_

Hope you enjoyed it. Please Review!


	8. End of the Second Year

_**Author's Notes: **_Finally_**, **_I'm back! Sorry for the delay, but as I said in the last chapter, I'm a bit busy these days. Anyway, read, review and enjoy!

_**Disclaimer: **_Hmm… let's see… oh yeah, Harry Potter is not mine; I'm just playing with it!

* * *

_**Chapter 8: End of the Second Year**_

"But how is it possible, I mean – Death is not a – a person, right?" protested Harry. Ginny had just finished telling him the tale of the Deathly Hallows. "And you said that the old story never calls them the Deathly Hallows! What if this Lovegood fellow is mistaken? You did say he is not right in his head – and your dad didn't believe him, did he?" Ginny shook her head. "And if my cloak is so special, how come Dumbledore can see through it?" They were walking through the corridor leading to the Great Hall.

"You are forgetting the tracking charms, Harry; he could simply be using them to track you! In any case, I did say they were a myth; it was Salazar who said he has seen them all. Why don't we wait for the next meeting instead of debating their existence!" replied Ginny.

"Let's go tonight," was all Harry said before they parted ways. They had decided to enter the Great Hall with a five minute time difference – to avoid any suspicions.

When Harry reached the Gryffindor table, he found Ginny looking miserable. He was wondering what might have happened when their eyes met for a moment – and he knew it was all an act.

'She's good at playing the distraught little girl,' thought Harry, discreetly checking for magic in his food. He took a careful note of things which showed any signs of magic.

"Where have you been, mate? Hermione says she hasn't seen you since morning." It was Ron who had just arrived with Hermione.

Harry's anger flared up. He barely managed to avoid hexing him. "I was just roaming around the castle," he said. His face must have shown some of his anger, for Hermione didn't question him any further, even though her face showed that she was barely restraining herself. But Ron – being his ever oblivious self – asked, "Roaming around the castle? What for? Where did you go?"

"Oh I don't know, I thought walking might help me lose some weight," Harry replied sarcastically, hoping Ron would get the hint and shut up. Unfortunately, he didn't, "Lose some weight? What are you talking about? You need to gain some!" If Harry didn't know any better, he'd have thought Ron was being stupid on purpose.

This was too much for Ginny; she burst out laughing, along with Hermione. Harry merely scowled at them and went back to eating. Fortunately for him, Ron did the same – still looking confused. Hermione – once she had stopped laughing – had the look on her face which told him that he wasn't off the hook yet.

* * *

That night Harry and Ginny found themselves in Salazar's office once again. Harry had managed to avoid Hermione's questioning by telling her the story he'd told Dumbledore. Then he had made a show of going to bed early – under the pretext of being tired – and come back under the invisibility cloak. As per the plan, Ginny had opened the portrait hole and followed him.

"So, back to the business," said Salazar, once they had exchanged pleasantries and taken their seats, "would you like to be my apprentice?" The question was directed towards Harry.

"Err—okay," replied Harry, "but what about Ginny?"

"Unfortunately, I can take only one apprentice at a time. You'll have to teach her – and any other friends you find," replied Salazar. "And one more thing – never bring anybody else to this place without my explicit permission. If you need a room, use the Room of Requirements. Just ask for the kind of room you need – like you did for my office. For non-Parselmouths – they can walk past the blank stretch of wall, thrice, concentrating upon the room they need. But they won't be able to use some of the features I added – like finding the door to this office. You'll get almost any kind of room there – within the limits of magic, of course."

"Wait a moment – even if you can't officially take her as your apprentice, she can still watch and learn the things you teach me, can't she?" asked Harry. He didn't want Ginny to feel left out.

"Of course she can. But most of the time, I won't be teaching you the traditional way. It won't be a good idea to have me around in this form when you are doing magic. I am using your magic to stay in this form, you know!" He pointed towards another shelf, "Bring me that box."

Harry obediently picked up the small, ornately carved wooden box lying on the aid shelf and placed it on the table.

"_Open," _said Salazar in Parseltongue. The serpents carved on the box moved aside to reveal a small keyhole. "Open it now; any unlocking spell should do the trick."

"_Alohomora!" _said Harry. The lid popped open. Inside the box was a small snake made of some grey-white metal. Somewhere near its middle was a rather large emerald.

"Is that platinum?" asked Harry in amazement. He had seen Aunt Petunia wearing some jewellery made of it and knew that it was costlier than even gold. He hadn't seen any of it in wizarding world.

"Is that what they call it now? I found some African wizarding tribes using it for making artefacts. They called it _Divine Silver,_ because it doesn't tarnish like regular silver," said Salazar.

"What's so special about this platinum?" asked Ginny, looking a little confused.

"Are you kidding? It's costlier than even gold!" replied Harry.

"Is it now? I didn't think any metal could be costlier than gold!" Salazar was surprised.

"I have heard there are several metals which are costlier than gold but they are too rare to be of any major significance. So what do we do with this serpent?" Harry quickly added in an attempt to drive the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Place your forefinger on its mouth. We need a drop of your blood."

Harry complied. He felt a sharp pain in his finger which vanished a moment later. The serpent seemed to have come to life. It slithered and coiled itself around his finger. In the end Harry had a serpent shaped platinum ring with a large emerald on the forefinger of his right hand.

"Now, you are officially my apprentice. The ring contains all the knowledge I ever gained – up to the point of my last visit, of course. It is currently bound to you and can't be removed against your wish. It will disappear when you don't want it to be seen. It can call me anywhere in the world. But I must warn you – try and avoid doing so unless absolutely necessary – especially if you are in a battle. It takes a huge amount of magic to call me and create this corporeal body – especially when you are outside Hogwarts. In fact, the further away you are, the more magic it needs. Effectively, I'll only be able to advise you – don't expect me to be able to possess you and fight your battles."

He continued at Harry's nod, "There are several other features – you'll find out about them in due course of time. Now, the ring doesn't mean you gain all the knowledge in no time. It's only your way out of reading books. The learning process will go at its natural rate – depending upon your capabilities. Otherwise you'll go insane from information overload. And gaining power too fast can corrupt even the best of men. However, if you need information about any particular topic, you can get it quickly."

He paused for a moment, "Some of the knowledge it contains is highly dangerous – it's what I call _true Dark Magic_ – magic that requires hideous acts to work – like Horcruxes. You won't be able to access it for now. It'll be unlocked gradually as you mature. Whatever happens – never practise any of it – it will destroy you – and those you care about! You'll become what you hate the most. You'll learn it only so that you can counter it when it's used against you. And you must ensure that this knowledge never falls into wrong hands."

Harry nodded. There was another brief pause before Ginny spoke.

"What do you mean by true Dark Magic?"

"People label anything they don't understand as dark – out of ignorance, fear or jealousy. Take Parseltongue for example – very few people can speak it – so it's considered dark. It's true that serpents are used in some really dark rituals – does that mean every Parselmouth practises them? The same could be said about Natural Occlumency. The blood magic your mother used to protect you would be considered dark by many. And you used the Killing Curse – which is supposedly '_among the worst of the Dark Arts'_ – according to the Headmaster – to save her life! Do you see it now? Magic in itself is never light or dark! It depends upon what you do with it! The true Dark Arts – as I call them – require such hideous acts to work – or have such hideous effects – that I can't find a reason to justify their use! In order to create a Horcrux – for example – you need to commit cold-blooded murder of an innocent – someone who has got their soul intact – without any hint of remorse – or sadness. You need to enjoy it! I can't find a reason to justify such an act! And that's only the tip of the iceberg! That's why you must – never – practise – them!" Salazar finished in a stern voice.

Harry and Ginny were horrified. They had never thought that such magic could exist. It was Harry who found his voice first.

"Then why are we going to learn them? I mean – you could simply teach us the ways to counter them!"

"You see, even I don't know all forms of magic that could be used against you. If you have some exposure to the inner workings of such magic, you may be able to devise a way to counter even some unknown form of magic. In order to counter something, you need to know exactly how it works! Why do you think there is no shield that can block the Killing Curse? That's because nobody knows about its true nature – there is hardly any literature dealing with it! Anybody found studying it will be automatically labelled as a dark wizard or witch."

"You mean you know how to block it?" asked Harry.

"Unfortunately, I don't. When I came here for the last time, I was working on creating a shield capable of blocking it. But the work was still in its early stages. I did manage to figure out how the Killing Curse works, though – maybe we'll be able to do it together. Besides, you could always conjure some solid object in its path – the shield isn't that important. It'll probably take more power than conjuring anyway! However, if you have the Elder Wand – and you are powerful enough, your shield may just be able to block it – it did for me – once."

The mention of the Elder Wand reminded Harry of the question that had bugged him the whole day, "What exactly are these Deathly Hallows? I mean – the old story sounds rather – rather unbelievable!" Harry blurted out. He found it very hard to believe that such things could exist.

Salazar laughed, "That it does. I once heard a couple of kids discussing it. The story in itself isn't entirely true – Death didn't create them!" His face became serious, "About a century and a half before our time, the Peverell brothers – Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus – travelled far and wide. During their travels, they came across a country – somewhere in Asia – which was being ruled by a tyrant – by the name of Morgol the Mighty – a very powerful wizard. He took offence at something they did and attacked them. After a long duel, the brothers managed to defeat him. In exchange for sparing his life, he gave them three powerful artefacts he had – the Deathly Hallows. Antioch took the Wand, Cadmus took the Stone and Ignotus, being the youngest – and the wisest – took the Cloak."

"So the whole '_Master of Death' _thing is a lie?" asked Ginny.

"I can't say for sure. You see, after the deaths of his brothers, Ignotus set out to investigate the history of the Hallows. The only clue he had was that Morgol had taken them from the tombs of old Egyptian wizards. That's what he had told them..." Salazar closed his eyes, as if trying to remember something.

"After nearly three years of hard work, he managed to find – in a tomb nearly two and a half millennia old – three and a half millennia old now – an inscription that described them. An old witch queen – I think she was called Gloriossa – was buried there. She was apparently the original owner of the Hallows. It didn't say how she got them, though. In any case, from what I have heard of ancient Egyptian sorcerers; I'd say they were more than capable of making them! The last line of the inscription could be roughly translated as, _'The one to unite them shall be the Master of Death.'_ She had apparently lost them before her death… There were some other tombs which mentioned one or two of them – but nobody, other than Morgol and Gloriossa, has ever had them together – at least not in recorded history. That's why I can't say if there is any truth in those words! It would probably depend upon how you interpret _the Master of Death.._." he trailed off.

There was a brief pause while the children digested the information.

"You said that you had an unbeatable wand…" began Harry.

Salazar cut him off, "Yes, it was the Elder Wand. And I had the Resurrection Stone for a while too."

"Where did you get them?"

"I took the Wand from one of the Dark Lords I defeated. He was an idiot, actually, boasting he couldn't be defeated because he had an unbeatable wand. And Ignotus himself gave me the stone."

"Ignotus? But why?"

"Ignotus was a very wise man, Harry. He was afraid if one of his sons found out the whole story, they might try and find the remaining Hallows – and die out in the process. I am probably the only one he ever told the whole truth – on his deathbed. He had kept the whole expedition a secret. Only the few people, who had accompanied him, knew anything about it. And even they didn't know that he actually had any of them! The legend was built around the highly exaggerated stories Antioch had told before his death. In any case, he gave me the stone – which he had taken after Cadmus' death – and told me to hide it. That's how I figured out what the Wand actually was."

"And you were trying to duplicate the Elder Wand – that was the special wand you were working upon!" said Ginny excitedly.

Salazar laughed, "Quite sharp, aren't you? Yes, that's what I was working upon. I made an extremely powerful wand too; but the Elder Wand can't be recreated, not without stepping into the forbidden territory of magic… And it is better that way – that wand is enough trouble as it is! We don't want more of them out in the world!"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Find out about it in any reliable history book – it crops up under various names – the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny… Too much blood has been shed over it."

"If the wand is unbeatable, how come the Peverells defeated Morgol?"

"No wand is unbeatable – it's just an exaggeration. No doubt, the wand is very powerful – it can even bend some of the laws of magic. But unbeatable – no! The wand won't cast spells by itself, you know!"

"What about the Stone? How does it work?" asked Ginny.

"I couldn't figure it out completely. Its magic is similar to the one we used to create our imprints – only it creates imprints of the dead." He paused for a while, "I know what you are thinking, Harry. Just remember that it can destroy you, like it destroyed Cadmus – yes, that part of the story is true! That's why I didn't keep it – I gave it to my eldest son – he didn't know what it was! I told him it was a family heirloom."

"'_It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.'_ The old man got at least one thing right!" muttered Harry. "Does the Cloak mean that I am descended from Ignotus Peverell?"

"Yes, it's very likely. The Cloak is special. It will expand to fit more people if needed – within limits of course. You can't be detected if you are under it, unless somebody runs into you. It masks your sounds too. Nobody can summon it from you and there are very few spells that can harm it."

"Then how come Dumbledore could see through it? And why did he give it to me?" protested Harry.

"He was using the tracking charms. And he gave it to you because it works only for its rightful owner. For anyone else, it's just an ordinary invisibility cloak," replied Salazar. "Anyway, I must insist that you keep all this about the Hallows a secret. It would be a disaster if this knowledge were to fall into wrong hands." Harry and Ginny nodded. "Now I think that's enough about the Hallows for now. You can learn more about them from the ring."

"How do I use it?" asked Harry.

"I'll tell you in a moment. How many days do you have before you go home for the summer?" asked Salazar.

"Eleven days," replied the children.

"So this is what we are going to do …"

* * *

The last eleven days of the term were a bit too busy for Harry's liking. They brewed antidotes to the potions in Harry's systems. Thankfully they didn't need any rare ingredients. Once the potions were taken care of, they started learning Occlumency. Just as Salazar had predicted, Harry found it very easy. His mental shields – once they had recovered from the effects of the potion – were pretty strong. He found that it also helped enhance his memory and concentration. While sorting his memories, he remembered several long forgotten things. He even tried to get past the memory blocks, but all he got was a splitting headache. By the tenth day, he had sorted out his memories – the ones that were accessible anyway – and built the mental shields completely. He decided to leave the rest for the summer. Thanks to his meditation exercises, he found it easier to control his emotions. It wasn't perfect yet, but he was getting there – slowly but surely. At least, he wasn't itching to hex Ron every time he saw him!

Ginny, on the other hand, was having some trouble with it. She was still doing the basic meditation exercises and sorting out her memories. Salazar had told her to go through her first year books during the summer. Harry was supposed to teach her whatever he had learnt from the ring, when he arrived at the Burrow – Ginny had said she would get her mother to invite him if Ron didn't.

Since they hadn't figured out how to do magic during the summer without getting expelled, they decided to concentrate on the fundamentals of magic – something they should have been taught before anything else. They also learnt several exercises that would help them use their magic optimally – exercises to strengthen their magical cores and connect to them properly. Harry found them somewhat difficult, thanks to the block on his magic – but he did notice the difference – his magic seemed to be less restricted. He wanted to remove another stage before going back, but Salazar refused. He said that the magical core needed time to stabilize properly before another stage could be removed.

To Harry's great surprise, Hermione didn't try to question him again. He had even gone through the trouble of thinking up a cover story for his disappearances! Well, it was a good thing – knowing Hermione, she would have found some loophole for sure.

Harry kept checking for his food and avoiding anything that showed even the faintest signs of magic. What he feared most was that he might be called by Dumbledore – he didn't think his mental shields were strong enough to keep Dumbledore out – not yet anyway. Fortunately for him, no such thing happened.

Salazar had advised him against studying Divination. It turned out that Salazar often chose to attend classes to pass his time. According to him, the teacher was a fraud. He had even led Harry through a series of tests to ensure that he didn't have any Seer talent. That was how it was done in old days, only those with some talent as a Seer were allowed to study Divination. Harry had failed miserably. His Seer abilities were far below those of an average witch or wizard.

Harry had no problems with that. He hadn't really wanted to study it in the first place. He had only opted for it because Ron had told him to. So the day before they were supposed to leave for the summer, he found himself knocking at Professor McGonagall's door. They had decided to do it at the last moment in case it was another one of Dumbledore's _brilliant_ ideas to have Harry study Divination. Though Harry thought it was rather far-fetched, even for Dumbledore. Why would he care about the subjects Harry studied? But it didn't hurt to be cautious – they didn't want to give the Headmaster a chance to try and _persuade_ him out of it.

"Enter!"

"Good evening, Professor."

"Good evening, Mr Potter. What can I do for you?"

"Err—Professor, I was wondering if it's too late to change the electives for the next year…"

McGonagall looked at him with scrutinizing eyes, "Take a seat, Potter." Harry did so. "No, it isn't too late. But you shouldn't have submitted your application without thinking it through."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry mumbled, trying to look sheepish, but failing miserably.

McGonagall looked at him disapprovingly, "So, what do you want?"

"Err—I was thinking of dropping Divination and taking Arithmancy – and maybe Ancient Runes…"

McGonagall's expression changed from disapproving to approving within an instant. Apparently, she didn't have much patience for Divination either. "Are you sure? Both of them are rather demanding subjects, you know!"

"I think I'll manage, Professor. Is it possible to drop either History of Magic or Astronomy?"

"No, you can't drop the core subjects, Potter. Well, if you are sure…" she took out Harry's application and threw it into the fireplace. Then she asked him to write a new one. Harry had already written one. McGonagall nodded appreciatively.

"Well, if that's all, you may leave, Potter."

"Thank you, Professor."

"You are welcome, Potter."

Before he turned to leave, Harry could have sworn he saw a faint smile on the stern Professor's face.

At the leaving feast, Harry received a Special Award for Services to the School. The three hundred points he had received a few days ago, for saving Ginny, ensured that Gryffindor won the House Cup by a long shot. Harry had already expected all this – still, he couldn't help but feel happy.

* * *

Next day, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny got a compartment to themselves. They spent the journey playing wizard chess and Exploding Snap. Malfoy and his goons showed their faces sometime during the afternoon, but retreated quickly when they saw that they were outnumbered two to one.

And before they knew it, the train was pulling into the King's Cross. Mrs Weasley greeted them with her usual enthusiasm, hugging the children and saying goodbye to Harry and Hermione. Ginny gave him a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Harry was about to follow them out to the muggle world when he spotted Malfoy talking to his father. Behind them, Harry spotted a little elf dragging a heavy trunk – it was Dobby. So, Dobby was Malfoys' house-elf! But how did he know about the diary or the Chamber? Realisation hit him – it was Lucius Malfoy who had planted the diary on Ginny – at Flourish and Blotts! He had picked up her old book and insulted Mr Weasley – then the fight had broken out. He had casually thrown the book back into her cauldron! It had all been intentional!

Anger and hatred boiled up inside him. The son of a bitch nearly got Ginny killed! He pulled out his wand, the incantation for the Killing Curse on his lips. Then he remembered what Salazar had said – he couldn't afford to lose control like that. There were too many people around – the curse could hit anybody. And even if he did hit Malfoy, he'd end up in Azkaban. No, the revenge would have to wait. And from what he had heard of Lucius Malfoy, he didn't deserve a quick death anyway. His death would be painful!

Forcing his anger down, he thought furiously for a way to free Dobby. Slowly a plan formed into his mind. He took out his invisibility cloak – which he had taken to carrying in his pocket – and put it on. He quickly moved closer to the Malfoys and removed his smelly socks. Taking careful aim, he levitated one of them above Mr Malfoy's head and dropped it. Lucius' face turned red with anger. He looked around, trying to find the offender. When he couldn't find anyone he could blame, he threw the sock away in anger. Dobby, who had been watching the spectacle with fearful eyes, jumped and caught it.

'Plan successful,' thought Harry. He didn't even need the second sock!

"Master has given Dobby a sock," the little elf said in wonderment.

"What did you say?" It was Draco Malfoy.

"Master Lucius gave Dobby a sock," Dobby repeated, waving the sock around, "Dobby is free!"

Lucius' face turned a deeper shade of red. He pulled out his wand tried to attack Dobby. But the elf was too quick for his liking. He blasted Lucius across the platform.

"Master – no, Lucius Malfoy will not hurt Dobby again! Dobby is a free elf now!" Dobby said threateningly.

Lucius Malfoy gathered whatever was left of his dignity and Disapparated with Draco. Dobby vanished with a loud _crack_, only a couple of moments later.

Smiling to himself, Harry turned around to leave through the ticket barrier, only to find his way blocked by the Weasleys. They were probably worried that he hadn't followed them. He ran towards the toilet. Once inside, he removed the cloak and came out.

"Oh Harry, where were you? We were so worried!" It was Mrs Weasley.

"I- I needed to go to the toilet," replied Harry. Mrs Weasley, Ron and Percy seemed satisfied; but Fred, George and Ginny's faces clearly said that they were not buying it.

"You won't believe what happened, mate! That weird house-elf, Dopey, or whatever he was called – someone freed him! Someone threw a sock..." Ron launched into a tale of what had transpired during his _absence_. Harry winked at Ginny, when the other Weasleys were not looking, confirming that it was indeed his doing. She smiled and blew him a kiss.

Once in the muggle world, both Mrs Weasley and Ginny hugged him again. They said their goodbyes and parted ways. Harry was greeted by surly looking Dursleys.

"Took your time, did you? Come on, we are in a hurry!" It was Uncle Vernon.

* * *

Harry found out the reason for the hurry when they reached Privet Drive. The Dursleys were going out for a party. Once he had freshened up, Aunt Petunia gave him some bread, cheese and water and sent him to his room. Uncle Vernon promised him a painful death if he touched any of his _normal_ things or did any _freaky_ stuff, before locking his room. How he was supposed to touch the so called _'normal'_ things, while the door was locked, was beyond him. Well, at least they didn't lock his trunk in his old _bedroom_ this time!

He was lying on his bed, thinking about the events of the last few days, when heard a loud _crack_. He jumped up, wand in hand, and came face to face with –

"DOBBY! What are you doing here?"

"Dobby is sorry for startling you, sir," the elf twisted his ears, "Dobby has come to thank Harry Potter for his kindness, sir. Yes, Dobby knows it was Harry Potter who freed him from the evil wizards. Dobby recognised the sock, sir. Dobby had heard of your greatness, but your kindness – he sees it now. Dobby is very sorry for all the trouble he caused you, sir. Dobby just wanted you to stay safe. Dobby will take any punishment you want, sir." He looked up anxiously, obviously awaiting punishment.

Harry was too shocked to say anything! Dobby had known it was him, all along! Finally he gathered his wits and asked the first question that came to his mind, "How did you recognise the sock?"

"Dobby recognised your magic and your smell in the sock, sir," replied the elf.

"You mean it can be traced back to me?" asked Harry, alarmed.

"Oh no, sir, magic stays in your clothes only for a few minutes after you remove them," replied Dobby.

Harry was relieved, "It was no problem, Dobby. Besides, I wanted revenge on Lucius Malfoy. He was the one behind the whole mess, wasn't he?"

"Oh yes, sir. Dobby had known of the plan for months. That's why he came to warn you, sir." Dobby hung his head in shame.

"It's all right, Dobby. Just promise me you won't try to save my life again, at least not the way you tried!"

The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile, "Yes, Harry Potter. Dobby promises."

"So, what are you going to do now, Dobby?" asked Harry.

"Dobby is going to take a vacation for a while, and then he is going to find a nice family to serve!" Dobby said happily.

Harry thought for a moment before he said, "Would you like work for me, Dobby."

Dobby broke into sobs, "Harry Potter is so kind. He frees Dobby from the evil wizards and gives him work." He calmed down after a few minutes of praising Harry. Harry couldn't help but feel very awkward. "Yes, Master Harry Potter, Dobby will work for you." As he said it, a flash of white light passed from Harry to Dobby.

"What was that, Dobby?" asked Harry.

"That was the bonding, sir. A house-elf has to be bound to a wizard – or he wouldn't survive for long. The bond will let Dobby know when master calls, no matter where he is," replied Dobby.

"Could you avoid calling me _master_? It sounds so awkward!" said Harry.

"Dobby will try, sir," replied the little elf.

"That's all I ask, Dobby. Now, about your payment… let's see… ten Galleons a week? What do you think?"

Dobby burst in fresh sobs, "Harry Potter will pay Dobby! He's so noble! Nobody ever pays an elf!"

Harry was startled, "What do you mean by 'nobody pays an elf'? What do you work for?"

"House-elves is not paid in gold, sir. They is paid in magic. House-elves need a small amount of magic from their master to survive. That's why nobody keeps more house elves than what they need!"

"Hmm… but I'll pay you Dobby..."

"Ten Galleons is too much, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will work for one Galleon a week," replied the little elf, shuddering at the thought of too much money.

"Alright then, one Galleon a week it is! Here," he took out a Galleon, "this is your first salary! Buy yourself some decent clothes."

"Thank you, sir. What is your order, sir?" asked the elf.

"For now, go and relax, Dobby. I'll call you when I need something. Just make sure my relatives don't know you are here! And don't let anybody know it was me who freed you! I don't want to face the Lucius Malfoy right now." Harry finished darkly.

"Dobby will keep your secrets, sir." The elf turned to leave.

"Wait, Dobby! Could you bring me some food? Here is the money," Harry handed him some coins.

"What would you like to have, sir?"

"Anything that's better than this," he pointed at the _food_ the Dursleys had given him.

Dobby bowed and vanished with a loud crack.

'I'll have to ask him to make a little less noise next time,' thought Harry.

Dobby returned about ten minutes later with a small feast.

"Dobby brought you food, Harry Potter." Then he noticed the worried look on Harry's face. "Something wrong, sir? You looking worried!"

"You just used magic, Dobby. Won't the ministry think it was me?"

"Oh no, they won't, sir. Last time Dobby made his magic look like wizard-magic. They don't detect elf-magic."

"Wait a moment – what do you mean by wizard-magic? Don't they know who actually did the magic?" asked Harry.

"No sir. Dobby heard old master talking about it. He was telling young master Draco – the ministry doesn't know who cast the spell. They only know when and where the magic is done – and the type of spell. They can't detect even that in a wizarding house – there is too much magic in the air. Master Draco does magic whenever he wants!" replied Dobby.

"Another example of discrimination against muggleborns," muttered Harry. "Wait, if an adult wizard uses magic here, they'd think it was me?"

"No sir, they is guessing if the wizard is underage by the amount of magic in the spell. If you is too powerful, they wouldn't know you is underage," replied Dobby.

"The whole system is based on guesswork and lies! They use the students' fear of expulsion to their advantage!" Harry was outraged.

They sat in silence while Harry pondered on how he could use this information to his advantage. His musings were interrupted when Dobby remembered the food, "The food is getting cold, Harry Potter, sir."

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **_Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!

I hope I made the theory about detection of underage magic a little more logical, while staying canon compliant!

I had a lot of trouble with Dobby-speak. Hope it turned out to be satisfactory!

Next chapter will cover the summer – and maybe the beginning of the third year!

* * *

_**Do you think Ginny should be a Parselmouth? If yes, should it be due to Riddle or the Bond?**_  
I haven't forgotten about the bond, you know. It was Harry who forgot about it. It'll come up later!

Hope you enjoyed it. Please read and review!


	9. Summer of '93

_**Author's Notes: **_Hey, I'm back – with the longest chapter yet!

It appears that the last chapter caused some confusion about how the ministry detects underage magic. Here is my theory:

The Ministry can detect the time, location and type of magic, but not the actual perpetrator (Dumbledore said so in HBP, and there are numerous examples). Yes, they can detect the type of magic – they knew that Patronous and Hover Charms had been performed at Privet Drive on the two occasions!

Now, if Harry was caught just because he lives in a muggle area – how come he wasn't caught when Mr Weasley (in GoF), Dumbledore (in HBP), Moody (in OotP – the Disillusionment Charm) and Mundungus (in OotP – Apparition) did magic at Privet Drive? And I'm sure the Order Guards used magic at some point or other. Did they give prior information of their visit to the ministry? I highly doubt it!

So, the ministry must have a way of knowing that the caster was underage or not. According to my theory – they do so by the power level of the spell. Think of a stunner – the power level of a stunner (or any other spell, for that matter) is lower when it's cast by a child than when it's cast by an adult. That's what they use to detect if the caster was underage. Then they make educated guesses about who the caster might be – based on location, power level etc.

Seventeen is the average age when a wizard's (or a witch's) magic reaches a certain level of maturity. In reality – most wizards reach this maturity level sometime between their sixteenth and eighteenth birthdays. But the fear of expulsion keeps them from doing it before their seventeenth birthday. And if someone does get away with it – they would certainly not boast about it – in case the authorities found out. They'd probably consider it a lucky chance!

The case of a wizarding household is different. Ambient magic interferes with the detection. So even if something is detected, it's considered unreliable. Think of radio communication, if there is too much noise, you can't consider the data obtained to be very reliable, can you? And certain charms and wards – like Fidelus Charm can stop the detection completely!

The only people who know the whole truth are the ones involved in this detection process (who are sworn to secrecy) and top ranking Ministry officials (like the Minister). That's why only the children from the influential wizarding families (read Malfoy) can use magic during the summer, without explicit permission from the ministry!

On that note, ministry can't detect very low power spells, like Lumos!

Now, some of you will probably say that if the ministry can detect spells in muggle areas, why don't they send Aurors when they detect Unforgivables – or other illegal spells – in muggle areas? Yes they do. But the ministry is corrupt and inefficient – it takes time to organize the Aurors and take necessary permissions. By the time they reach the scene, it's all over. Voldemort and Death Eaters usually go for guerrilla warfare – they wreak havoc and flee. And even if they do come face to face with Aurors, the Aurors go for stunners and other lightweight spells. They rarely – if ever – have the authority to kill. So Voldemort doesn't fear that his magic would be detected.

I tried several theories – like tracking charms on wands etc, but none of them could explain everything in canon (well, most of the things – for some of the things JKR has written, especially in DH, contradict the things written in earlier books!)

Hope it's satisfactory your curiosity. If you find any problems with the theory, please let me know – I'll try to fix it. If not, let me know what you think of it!

It's one of the chapters where I had to take some paragraphs directly from the book. Please don't flame me for it! It had to be done to avoid unexpected jumps and show some changes!

That said, Read, Review and Enjoy!

_**Disclaimer:**_ Harry Potter and associated characters are not mine.

* * *

_**Chapter 9: Summer of '93**_

For the first time in his life, Harry wasn't miserable at Privet Drive. That doesn't mean he was happy – but at least he was getting proper food and wasn't doing slave labour for his relatives. The creature responsible for all this was, ironically, the one who had played a major role in making his last summer miserable. Dobby brought him food and helped him do the chores – that is, he did all the chores himself – when the Dursleys weren't looking! Harry had tried to help – but Dobby found it insulting that Harry had to do any work at all. In the end, it was decided that Harry would do the chores which involved a possibility of being seen. At first, Dobby had had some trouble with muggle appliances, but he had learned quickly. Harry had to tell him to work slowly, because the Dursleys had given him odd looks at his newfound efficiency, before giving him more chores.

So, Harry had spent last five weeks learning magic. Learning from the ring was an interesting experience, to say the least. Instead of reading books, it was like watching three dimensional videos. To somebody else, it would look like he was in a trance – something Salazar had already warned him about. The Dursleys rarely bothered themselves with him, so there was very little probability of someone catching him in that state. In any case, he had asked Dobby to warn him if somebody was coming into his room. The real problem would appear at Hogwarts, when he would be surrounded by people.

Harry was already done with the fundamentals of magic. He wondered why it wasn't taught at Hogwarts – he found it easier to understand things he had learnt during his first two years– things like why it was important to stir a potion exactly as mentioned in the instructions – things like the importance of precise wand movements.

'It's probably something purebloods learn before starting at Hogwarts.' Harry had thought bitterly.

After the fundamentals of magic, he had moved on to first year curriculum. He wanted to learn things properly from the ring – for it gave him far better insight into the inner workings of spells and potions than Hogwarts teachers – especially a certain greasy-haired, hook-nosed professor. Even though he couldn't practise the spells, he could still learn the theory and practise wand movements!

Harry had realised that some of the spells and potions were slightly different from what he knew. It was probably due the changes that had taken place during last thousand years – another thing Salazar had warned about. Some of them – especially Potions – hadn't been invented in his time. He'd still have to pay attention in the classes and read some books to go through the examinations. Well, another reason to spend less time around Ron! Even though he wasn't a bookworm like Hermione, Harry had never despised books – unlike Ron.

He had found several new spells, which should be first year level. It was just like Salazar had said – a large portion of magical knowledge was lost during the course of the millennium. In fact, the loss was much more than new discoveries – since magical research was tightly controlled by the ministry.

Apart from the fundamentals, he had also searched for information about several topics that interested him – like the Deathly Hallows, Legilimency, wards… He couldn't make head or tail of most of the information – because he didn't have the necessary background knowledge – but he had still managed to get a general idea of things. He really wanted to learn Legilimency, but for that, he needed a partner to work with. The same was true for advanced Occlumency. In the end, he had decided not to waste time browsing through things he couldn't understand and concentrate on the organised approach.

It was nearly midnight, and Harry was busy writing a particularly difficult essay for Snape. A smile spread across his face as he imagined Snape's reaction on his newfound potion-making brilliance. He had never been a terrible potion-maker like Neville or Ron. Even though he wasn't as good as Hermione or Malfoy, he was pretty sure he would be graded somewhere between E and O by a fair teacher, instead of barely passing.

_Crack!_

"Happy Birthday, Harry Potter, sir," squealed an excitable little elf, hugging him around the middle.

Harry was shocked. How on earth did Dobby find out about his birthday? And how come he had forgotten about it? He accepted Dobby's gift – which turned out to be a pair of brilliant yellow coloured socks.

"Thanks Dobby!" Even though he didn't really like the socks, he was touched. This was the second real birthday gift he had ever received – Hedwig was the first.

Thinking of Hedwig, she hadn't returned for last three nights. He wasn't particularly worried; she had been gone this long before. He hoped she would return soon – other than Dobby, she was the only friend he had at Privet Drive.

Harry was gazing absently over the rooftops, wondering why his friends hadn't written to him – even once – during the last five weeks. It took him a few seconds to realise what he was seeing. Silhouetted against the moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in his direction. He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut. But then the bizarre creature soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and Harry, realizing what it was, leapt aside.

Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft _flump _on Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and grey, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.

Harry recognised two of the owls at once. The unconscious one was Errol, the Weasleys' family owl while the large snowy female was his own, Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. He relieved them of their burdens and carried Errol to Hedwig's cage. Hedwig gave him an affectionate nip with her beak, and then flew across the room to join Errol.

Harry didn't recognize the third owl, a handsome tawny one. But one look at its letter told him where it had come from – it bore the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night.

Harry sat down on his bed and grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the brown paper, and discovered two presents – one wrapped in gold, other in pink – and his first ever birthday cards. Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope. Two pieces of paper fell out – a letter and a newspaper clipping.

The newspaper clipping said that Mr Weasley had won the _Daily Prophet __Grand Prize Galleon Draw _of Seven hundred Galleons and that the Weasleys would be spending their summer in Egypt – where Bill, the eldest son, worked as a curse breaker for Gringotts. The letter was from Ron. Harry was slightly disappointed – he was hoping it would be from Ginny. Ron had apologised for not writing earlier and described Egypt briefly. In the end, he had mentioned that they would be going to Diagon Alley in the last week of the holidays. He had also mentioned that Percy had been chosen as Head Boy – something he didn't seem too happy about.

'Typical jealous Ron.' Harry thought with a smirk.

Ron's present – the one wrapped in Gold – turned out to be something that looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it.

_Harry,_

_This is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup._

_Bye,  
Ron_

Harry laughed at the last line. Typical Fred and George – always trying to prank people! For a moment, he wondered if he should throw away Ron's gift. But he remembered he had decided to treat him normally for the time being. So he placed it on the table. Then he moved on to the package Hedwig had brought. It turned out to be from Hermione.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you _–_what if they'd opened it at customs? But then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the __Daily Prophet__ (I've been getting it delivered; it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world). Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he's learning loads. I'm really jealous _–_the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating._

Harry smiled – if only she knew!

_There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out. I hope it's not too long _– _it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for._

_Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!_

_Love from  
__Hermione_

Harry shook his head – Hermione was always worried about her performance – even though she was on top of everything. Her present was rather large and rectangular. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a book full of very difficult spells. He was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be a rather expensive looking Broomstick Servicing Kit.

The parcel that had come with the Hogwarts letter turned out to be from Hagrid. It contained a book called _The Monster Book of Monsters_ – it tried to bite his hand off the moment he opened the parcel. He had to tie it up using his belt. Harry found it ominous that Hagrid would consider a biting book to be useful – as the note had suggested. Deciding to worry about it later, he moved on to the pink parcel – Ginny's present – which he had kept for the end.

It turned out that Ginny had hidden her letter beneath the present – which turned out to be an album containing wizarding photographs of various tourist attractions in Egypt and a framed photograph of her as a four year old – playing with a doll. Harry couldn't help but think that she looked incredibly adorable as a child. The letter said –

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm really sorry for not writing earlier; but Errol was injured and Percy wouldn't let me borrow Hermes. And thanks a lot for the advice – it's really good to be able to practise magic at home. I haven't told anyone else – can't risk mum or Percy finding out; but I think the Twins already know about it. The gits – couldn't have told their sister!_

Harry smiled as he imagined Ginny ranting about her brothers.

_I hope you liked my gift. The doll you see in the photograph is my first Harry Potter doll. I lost it when I was six._

Harry blinked. Looking closely, the doll did have untidy black hair, dark green buttons for eyes and a lightning bolt shaped scar on its forehead. Somebody must have found photographs of him as a baby. He smiled at the thought of little Ginny playing with a doll that looked like him.

_Anyway, Egypt is great. I won't go into the details because I know Ron's already doing that. I'm feeling really bad that you have to be stuck with those awful muggles while we're enjoying ourselves. I tried to get mum to invite you; but she didn't think we could afford it._

_Ron is being awfully nosy about what I'm writing in the letter – I think I'll hide it in your gift. _

_By the way, Percy got selected for Head Boy. That's made him even more pompous – if that's possible._

_We'll be going to Diagon Alley in the last week of holidays. Hope to see you there._

_Love,  
Ginny_

_PS. It was the twins who spiked Lockhart's drink. They were trying to persuade a couple of starstruck girls to ask the questions; but Snape made it easy for them!  
_

Harry placed the letter and the gifts on the table. He was happy for the Weasleys – and especially Ginny. She had always liked Bill the best among her brothers. But a tiny part of him felt unhappy at being stuck at the Dursleys for the rest of the summer.

Suppressing the unhappy part, he opened the last letter – the official Hogwarts letter. It had the usual notice regarding the start of term. It also said that third years and above were allowed to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends – but he'd have to get permission from one of his guardians. His heart sank – he had heard that Hogsmeade was a wonderful place – but how in the wide world was he supposed to get Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign the permission form?

He looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning.

Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts. Then he took off his glasses and lay down, eyes open, facing his four birthday cards.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt glad that it was his birthday.

* * *

Harry went down to breakfast next day to find the three Dursleys sitting around the kitchen table, watching brand-new television. It was a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room.

He helped himself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict:

"The public is warned that Sirius Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

Harry didn't know why – but the name Sirius Black sounded vaguely familiar. Due to some reason, it brought up the image of a large, shaggy black dog in his mind. He shook his head – there was no way he could know the muggle convict. In the meantime, Uncle Vernon was ranting about how hanging was the only way to deal with such people.

Harry was brought out of his musings by Uncle Vernon saying that he was going to get Marge – his sister – from the railway station.

"Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "She– she's not coming here, is she?" Every single one of her previous visits flashed through his mind – none of them had failed to bring some unpleasantness for him.

"Marge will be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, "and while we're on the subject," he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harry, "we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."

Harry spent the next fifteen minutes listening to Uncle Vernon's instructions on how he was supposed to behave like a muggle and stick to the story about attending St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. It ended with a promise of extreme pain if he failed to comply.

Harry sat there, white faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. This had to be the worst birthday present the Dursleys had ever given him – not that they had given many. Just as Uncle Vernon was about to leave – after Dudley's refusal to accompany him – an idea struck him. Since he couldn't do anything about Marge, he was going to make the most of it. Abandoning his breakfast, he followed Uncle Vernon to the front door. He took some deep breaths to calm himself down – to mask his emotions and make himself look calm and in control.

"Uncle Vernon?"

"I'm not taking _you_," snarled Uncle Vernon, who was pulling on his coat.

"Like I wanted to come," said Harry coldly. "I want to ask you something."

"What is it?" Uncle Vernon eyed him suspiciously.

"You see – third years and above at my school are allowed to visit the neighbouring village sometimes. I need you to sign the permission form," replied Harry, without any sign of fear.

"And why would I do that?"

"It will be rather hard, you know, pretending to Aunt Marge that I go to that St. Whatsits –"

"St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys!" bellowed Uncle Vernon. Harry was pleased to hear a definite note of panic in his voice.

"Exactly," said Harry, looking calmly up into Uncle Vernon's large, purple face. "It's a lot to remember. I'll have to make it sound convincing, won't I? What if I accidentally let something slip?"

"_You'll get the stuffing knocked out of you, won't you_?" roared Uncle Vernon, advancing on Harry with his fist raised. But Harry stood his ground.

"Oh yeah? But can you do the damage control? Can you make her forget everything?" he paused, "Dobby!"

The little elf appeared with a loud crack, dressed oddly as ever.

"Harry Potter calls Dobby?" asked the excitable elf, wondering why Harry had called him in presence of the muggles.

"WHAT THE RUDDY HELL IS THAT?" bellowed Uncle Vernon, at the same time as Dobby.

"He is my friend, Dobby. I can't do magic – not without risking expulsion, but _he_ can! Think of what I could show her…" Harry left the sentence hanging. The Dursleys didn't need to know he could be punished for breaking the International Statue of Secrecy if he did that.

Uncle Vernon stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ugly puce.

"Think about it, Uncle Vernon, you don't stand to lose anything by signing it!"

Uncle Vernon thought for a while before speaking.

"Right," he snapped finally. "I shall monitor your behaviour carefully during Marge's visit. If, at the end of it, you've toed the line and kept to the story, I'll sign your ruddy form."

"I don't think so! I've to send it back within the week, you know." Harry lied easily.

Uncle Vernon bared his teeth. "How do I know you won't go back on your promise if I do it right now?"

Harry thought for a while, "You don't have to worry about that. I won't be staying here during the daytime. I'll return only for sleeping. You won't have to worry about food either. You can tell Aunt Marge I'm off doing some summer job or something."

"And where will you go? How will you pay for your food?" It was Aunt Petunia. She had arrived with Dudley sometime during the conversation.

"That's none of your concern," snapped Harry.

"Boy, you'll not talk to your Aunt like that; I'll not tolerate it," bellowed Uncle Vernon.

But Harry wasn't paying attention – he was busy looking at Aunt Petunia. He could have sworn a look of hurt had passed across her face at his answer. But it was gone as soon as it had come. Harry discarded it as a figment of his imagination. Shaking his head to clear it, he asked, "So, what have you decided, Uncle Vernon?"

"I'm not signing anything without reading it properly – and I don't have time to do it right now. I'll think about it after dinner tonight." Uncle Vernon slammed the door behind him.

Harry ran up to his bedroom and started packing his things. If he had to stay out of the house, he couldn't leave them lying around. He had packed nearly everything – except for the things he would be taking with him – like his wand and the invisibility cloak – when there was a knock at the door and Aunt Petunia came in.

"Show me that form of yours," she said in her snappish manner.

Harry complied. She took a moment to read it – it wasn't very long – and then signed it.

"Don't bring it up before Vernon. And you don't need to go away – just stay out of the way as far as you can," said Aunt Petunia, before turning away.

Harry was surprised. He had never expected Aunt Petunia to go out of her way to help him. She was already at the door when he found his tongue.

"Err—thanks, Aunt Petunia! And I'm going to London to get my supplies today."

Aunt Petunia nodded before saying, "Get going before Vernon returns. You know how to get there?"

Harry nodded. He had decided to go by the Knight Bus. He quickly wrote three letters to Ron, Hermione and Ginny – explaining the situation briefly– and gave them to Hedwig for delivery. He was hoping it would take Hedwig at least a week to deliver them – he didn't want her to return during Aunt Marge's stay. Errol took off after her – probably insulted that Hedwig was carrying his letters.

* * *

As Harry stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, his head was reeling with recent revelations. Sirius Black wasn't a muggle convict – he was a wizard – a very dangerous one at that! He had murdered thirteen people with a single curse!

The Leaky Cauldron was mostly empty. Looking around, Harry quickly put on the invisibility cloak and moved out into the backyard and tapped the third brick from the left above the trash bin with his wand – the one Salazar had given him. He had left his holly wand at Privet Drive, along with the coins containing the tracking charms. The archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.

Harry's first destination was the Gringotts Bank. He removed the cloak just before entering the snow white building. Moving on to a free counter, he politely said, "Excuse me!"

"How may I help you, Mr …"

"Potter, Harry Potter. And I'd like to meet my accounts manager – I believe he's called Gorcrook."

"Sure, Mr Potter. Goldflag!" he called another goblin, "Take Mr Potter to Gorcrook."

Harry followed Goldflag through one of the doors leading out of the lobby. After passing through several corridors, they reached a door bearing a plaque that read _'Gorcrook' _followed by several other things Harry didn't understand. Goldflag knocked at the door and shouted something in gobbledegook. The door swung open to reveal an elderly goblin sitting behind a large ornate table.

"Ah, Mr Potter. I was expecting you two years ago!"

"Thank you, Mr Gorcrook. I was stopped from seeing you during my last visits," replied Harry.

Gorcrook laughed – or at least that's what Harry thought it was – it was rather hard to tell. "We don't use titles for Goblins Mr Potter. Call me Gorcrook. And I know that you were stopped from seeing me. Am I correct in my assumption that you have come here without informing anybody?"

Harry nodded. "Look, I know I'm not supposed to come here alone. But I'm pretty sure Dum—someone is trying to hide something about my vault."

"Vaults, Mr Potter," Gorcrook corrected him, "and I don't really care how you came here."

"What are you talking about? I have got only one vault – my parents' vault!"

"Vault number nine-seven-three-six-zero initially belonged to Miss Lily Evans," Gorcrook replied, consulting his notes, "it was later converted into a trust vault meant for your use until you are ready to take control of your family vault."

There was a brief pause before Harry spoke, "I want to know everything you can tell me about my inheritance. Gorcrook, please be honest with me."

"Of course, Mr Potter," replied the goblin, before summoning a large, leather bound book – probably a ledger – with the word 'POTTER' printed across its spine. Then he took out some fresh parchment and started scribbling.

After about ten minutes, he passed the parchment to Harry. "This, Mr Potter, is a summary of your vaults – take a look."

Harry scanned the parchment. The first section had the details of his trust vault.

_**Vault 97360**_

_Type  
__Regular  
Key Based_

_Contents__  
70,869 Galleons  
13,957 Sickles  
10,701 Knuts_

_Investments__  
Nimbus Flying Equipments – 13,075 Galleons  
__Gladrags Wizardwear__ – 8,800 Galleons  
Dr. Filibuster Fireworks Co. – 3,000 Galleons_

There were a few more companies Harry had never heard of. However, it was the last entry that caught his attention:

_Grunnings Drills Inc. – 87,000 Pounds_

"Gorcrook, isn't that a muggle company?" Harry asked, pointing at the last entry.

"Oh yes, Mr Potter. Goblins – unlike many wizards – have no problems doing business with muggles – as long as it's profitable. How do you expect us to exchange muggle money for Galleons?" said Gorcrook.

"But how? I'm sure I've never heard of Goblins in the muggle world!" asked Harry.

"I can't tell you anymore, Mr Potter." Gorcrook's tone was suddenly stern.

Harry mumbled an apology and went back to the parchment in his hand. Following the investments was a list of last thirty transactions for his vault. Harry's eyes widened – approximately five hundred Galleons were being withdrawn from his vault – every month!

"Err—Gorcrook, I'm pretty sure I never made these withdrawals. Can you tell me something more about them?"

Gorcrook consulted his ledger before replying, "Most of it is converted into muggle money and deposited into –" he checked the ledger again, "—a Vernon Dursley's account in a muggle bank. The rest is deposited into Hogwarts scholarship vault. Twenty Galleons are withdrawn as the management charges for the vault."

It took every bit of Harry's self control to suppress his fury. The Dursley's were being paid to keep him! And he'd never received anything except cast-offs! Taking deep breaths, he asked, "Tell me Gorcrook, exactly how much money do the Dursleys get – in pounds? And how long have they been getting it?"

"At present, they receive eight thousand pounds a month. It started in November 1981. Initially, it was five thousand pounds a month – at that time it was worth about a thousand Galleons. I take it that you don't approve of it?"

"I bloody well don't! Those bastards are getting my parents money – my money – and all I ever get is rags and cast offs!" Harry almost shouted.

"Calm down, Mr Potter. Save your anger for where it's needed." It took Harry a few minutes, and every bit of his Occlumency skill, to calm down. "While I already have a good idea, can you tell me who authorised these withdrawals?"

"Unfortunately, we don't record who made the withdrawals for regular, key based vaults. It doesn't really matter – we can't prevent anyone who has a key, from accessing the vault."

"But you do have an idea, don't you?" asked Harry.

"Unofficially, yes." He leaned a little closer, "Who do you think it is, Mr Potter? You said you had a good idea…"

Harry hesitated; he wanted to ensure that this information won't go back to Dumbledore. He was about to speak when Gorcrook beat him to it, "Don't worry, anything that's said in this room, remains here."

"Albus Dumbledore, he's the one who had the key," replied Harry.

"Has a key, Mr Potter," Gorcrook corrected him; "He has to present the key once every year to verify his claim. He was here only a week ago."

"Can I somehow prevent him from accessing my vault?" asked Harry.

"You could get a new key – for sixteen Galleons. Even better, you could change the vault type to allow only certain people to access it – that would increase the fee to twenty-eight Galleons a month. There are other, more secure options, but considering the amount of money the vault contains, it would be the most viable alternative," replied Gorcrook.

Harry thought for a while, "Do it, but continue the money transfer unless I tell you otherwise. Do you think a letter will be sufficient in that regard?"

"As long as we can verify its authenticity, it'll be fine. To be on the safer side, write it yourself using a regular quill, don't use a quill with some magical properties and don't ask somebody else to write it for you."

Harry nodded, "And there will be no need to notify Dumbledore," he said firmly.

"Ah, that wouldn't be a problem. Since you are the owner of the vault, you are the only one we have to answer to."

Harry nodded again and went back to the parchment he had forgotten he was holding. The next section described his family vault.

_**Vault 16**_

_Type  
__Highest Security  
Blood Magic Based_

_Contents__  
176,970,322 Galleons  
215,001 Sickles  
5,712,106 Knuts_

Harry's eyes bulged out – he had so much money that he could live comfortably for his entire life without working for a single day!

The investments section had a long list of companies – most of which he'd never heard of. Fortunately, there were no unexpected transactions.

"You said something about being ready to take control of the family vault, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. Most of the ancient families set up trust vaults for their children until they are of age – to ensure that the children don't get unlimited access to family gold – and to help them learn their way in Gringotts. Usually, the heir gets to see the family vault when he turns eleven. That's why I requested a meeting when you came here on your eleventh birthday…" Gorcrook trailed off.

"You don't have magical guardians, do you?" He asked, when Harry didn't say anything.

"No. I mean, I live with muggles," replied Harry.

"No magical child can be forced to live with muggles if he or she has a magical guardian – unless specifically stated by his or her parents – that's the law. Since your parents will was never found, we can safely assume that you don't have a magical guardian. Which means – not only you can take control of your vault whenever you want, you can also emancipate yourself, without needing anybody's permission. But I'd advise you to check the laws carefully before trying anything of that sort – I'm no expert in these matters."

Harry took a moment to digest all the information. The hot-headed, impulsive part of him wanted to get emancipated as soon as possible. But the rational part won – he'd have to think it through before doing anything – and a little bit of advice won't hurt either. A tiny mistake at this stage could be disastrous.

Finally, he asked, "Is that all, or does my inheritance include anything else?"

"That's the part of your inheritance _under Gringotts' jurisdiction_. I can't claim to know everything about your inheritance unless I have seen your parents will. Ancient families guard their secrets rather zealously, you know," he added, effectively preventing Harry from asking any questions. "And by the way, your family vault contains some artefacts and jewellery as well – I forgot to mention them in the summary," replied the goblin, looking somewhat sheepish.

Harry thought for while, "I want to take control of the vault right now. Wait; is it possible to do it such that nobody finds out about it unless I want them to?"

"Of course, Mr Potter. That's a part of our client confidentiality! Now, if that's all, you'll need to fill up a couple of forms. Here," he summoned the required forms, "this one is for taking control of your vault," he pointed towards the longer form, "the other one is for changing the type of vault."

Harry was about halfway through filling the form when he realised something. "Wait; how do you know I am who I claim to be? I could be an imposter using Polyjuice or something!"

Gorcrook chuckled, "Trust me Mr Potter; you would have received some nasty surprises if you were an imposter. No, don't ask me how – we have our ways." He added, for Harry looked ready to ask questions.

Harry nodded and went back to the form. Near the bottom of the form, he was required to sign using a peculiar quill that used his blood as ink. According to Gorcrook, it was the ultimate test of his identity.

"This is a blood quill, Mr Potter. We use it only for very important documents. It's illegal to use it for any other purpose – the punishments for its misuse can be – rather severe," he said, once Harry had signed his name in blood.

"Well, if that's all…" began Gorcrook, but Harry cut him off.

"There is one more thing I want you to do. I want to own enough of Grunnings' shares to have some form of control over it – if I need to. You can pull out the money from some of the lesser profitable investments." Harry had two things in mind – he'd be able to extract some revenge from the Dursleys – and Grunnings was a rather profitable firm in itself – if even half of what he had overheard Uncle Vernon telling Aunt Petunia was true.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of his birthday exploring the shops in Diagon Alley. Earlier, he had visited his family vault and searched for anything that might give him some clue about the remaining portion of his inheritance. He had been hoping to find his parents' will in the vault. Unfortunately, he hadn't found anything.

He visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions first. Thankfully, it was Malfoy-free this time. He had grown nearly six inches since his last visit – something Madam Malkin was quick to spot. Needless to say, he had to spend an embarrassing hour standing on a stool, being poked and prodded as he was fitted up. As he was about to leave, Madam Malkin brought up a topic that had been a sore point for him – especially after the revelations at Gringotts.

"Tell me, Mr Potter, is it some kind of a new fashion among the muggles to wear clothes that are several times too big for them?"

Harry turned red – he hated discussing his life at the Dursleys'. Apparently, Madam Malkin had realised her mistake as well, for she apologised immediately, "I'm sorry, Mr Potter, I didn't mean to pry into your personal life. I was just curious, that's all…"

"It's all right, Madam Malkin. And no, it's not a new fashion – I'm just wearing the cast-offs I received from my whale of a cousin. I was hoping to get some new ones today – but I don't know my way in muggle London…"

Madam Malkin looked ashamed of herself for having brought up the topic, but she recovered quickly. She told him about a shop not very far from the Leaky Cauldron – where he could get new muggle clothes. It was owned by a distant muggle relative of hers – who was somewhat open-minded about magic. Harry decided to visit the shop later.

After Madam Malkin's, Harry went to Flourish and Blotts and the Apothecary to get his books and potions supplies. At Flourish and Blotts, he understood why Hagrid had said that _The Monster Book of Monsters_ would be useful – it was listed as the required book for Care of Magical Creatures. Harry wondered what kind of a crazy teacher would set a biting book and if it had been a mistake to opt for Care of Magical Creatures.

He had lunch at a nice muggle restaurant before visiting the shop Madam Malkin had told about. Thankfully, it didn't take very long and he was back to Diagon Alley before he knew it. Stepping into an empty alleyway, he called Dobby and told him to take the packages back to Privet Drive. As the elf vanished, Harry wondered if he could take him back as well. He decided to ask him later. Checking his watch, he realised he still had a couple of hours before he was due to return to Privet Drive. He decided to explore the Diagon Alley a bit more.

As the shadows on ground lengthened, Harry decided it was time to return. He was about to step out of the Leaky Cauldron when he remembered that Ginny's birthday was less than two weeks away – and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to come back for her gift. Thinking back to her letter, he decided to get her an owl. So, he returned to Eeylops Owl Emporium and bought a handsome tawny owl. He couldn't take it to Privet Drive – thanks to Aunt Marge's presence. So, he wrote a short note for Ginny and tied it to the owl's leg for delivery. Ginny would be getting an early birthday present this year.

* * *

The next seven days were absolute hell for Harry. He tried to stay out of Marge's way as far as he could – even using his invisibility cloak if needed – but he still had to appear at mealtimes. On the first night, he had tried to take his food to his room, but Aunt Marge would have none of it. So, he had to endure her snide comments about his appearance and behaviour at every mealtime. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia – fearing he might go back on the deal and call Dobby – attempted to divert the conversation away from him to the best of their abilities – but Marge was hell bent on criticising him. Normally, Harry wouldn't have let it bother him, but after the revelations at Gringotts, he had to exercise a lot of self control not to lash out at the Dursleys.

Ever since he had returned from the Diagon Alley, he had been contemplating his next move. As much as he wanted to confront the Dursleys and get out of the hellhole, he had to wait until he had a place of his own – something he couldn't have until he was emancipated. The real obstacle in his plans was Dumbledore – he couldn't let the old man know what he was up to – not until it was too late for him to change anything. He was pretty sure the old geezer would fight tooth and nail to keep him under his control – the use of Draught of Slavery had proved that. In the end, he had decided to keep a low profile and behave normally until he was ready to strike.

The plan was working fine until the last evening of Marge's stay. He had managed to keep his head down and stay out of trouble with the Dursleys. On the said evening, Aunt Petunia had cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon had uncorked several bottles of wine. They had managed to get all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Harry's faults. During the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Vernon had bored them all with a long talk about Grunnings. Harry was essentially forgotten that evening – something that suited him just fine. He should've known it was too good to last!

Aunt Marge remembered Harry just as he was about to leave. "Where do you think you are going, boy? You'll stay back and clean up after we have eaten. Now, sit down."

Harry had no choice but to sit down. Aunt Marge apparently decided that she hadn't taunted him enough. She went on and on about how Dudley was a healthy-sized boy who'd be a proper sized man, like his father – Harry barely managed to keep a straight face.

"Now, this one here –" she turned towards Harry, "This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was…"

As usual, Harry tried to tune her out, but Aunt Marge was in no mood to allow that.

"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia," she patted Aunt Petunia's bony hand with her shovel like one, "but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best of families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."

Harry's anger was rising with every passing moment. He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to restrain himself. He was about to get up and leave when she asked the fateful question.

"This Potter – you never told me what he did?"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked extremely tense. Even Dudley looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.

"He – didn't work," said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry. "Unemployed."

"As I expected!" said Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who –"

This was too much for Harry, he couldn't take it anymore. His resolve to keep his head down crumbled as he said in a deadly voice, "He was not."

The table went very quiet. Aunt Petunia recognised the danger and tried to send him back to his room; but, unfortunately for her, Aunt Marge didn't.

"No, Petunia," hiccupped Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harry's. "Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash, drunk, I expect –"

"Oh really? Haven't you told her," he sneered at Uncle Vernon, "that you get eight thousand pounds a month for letting me stay here – even when I am away at school?"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went very pale, but Harry was far from done. "Where do you think that money comes from? I'll tell you – that's my parents money – my money – you've been using to buy presents for your pig of a son."

"Shut up, you nasty little liar, your parents left you nothing! And even if they did, Vernon and Petunia deserve to get all of it," screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury, "for taking in an insolent, ungrateful little…"

But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger – but the swelling didn't stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech – next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls – she was inflating like a monstrous balloon. At the same time, unnoticed by anyone, the room was getting colder with every passing minute.

Harry had seen enough, he tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for his bedroom. Behind him, he could hear the Dursleys shouting. He quickly snatched his belongings and threw them haphazardly into his trunk. Then he called Dobby and told him to take it downstairs – to the front door. The elf grabbed the trunk and Hedwig's cage and vanished with a _crack_.

Harry sprinted down the stairs and was about to get to the front door – when Uncle Vernon came bursting out of the dining room. His trouser leg was in bloody tatters and there were flakes of snow in his hair. Harry glanced towards the dining room and nearly laughed at the sight – the usually spotless dining room was covered in snow.

"…COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!" Uncle Vernon was shouting.

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. "She deserved it. She deserved everything she got. You keep away from me if you know what's good for you."

"They'll expel you! And you've got nowhere else to go!" said Uncle Vernon, panic evident in his voice.

"Any place will be better than this hellhole." Harry said before sprinting out of the room towards the front door where Dobby was waiting with his trunk. He told the elf to hide himself and wait for his summon. In the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Hedwig's cage under his arm.

Thinking quickly, he decided to go to Leaky Cauldron for the time being. He was sure he won't be punished, as the magic wasn't intentional – he hadn't used his wand. His first instinct was to call Dobby back and send the luggage with him, but he decided against it. It wouldn't be a good thing if Dobby was seen with his trunk. He couldn't ask the elf to pop him to the Leaky Cauldron either – it would be rather hard to explain how he reached London within minutes of blowing up his Aunt. So, he decided to call the Knight Bus.

* * *

Harry was sitting on his bed at the Leaky Cauldron, his head reeling with the events of the last night. He had been somewhat worried to see Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic waiting for him. But his fears had been allayed when he found out he wasn't there to punish him. The conversation with the Minister had left Harry with no doubt that there was something Fudge wasn't telling him – something big enough for the Minister to be involved personally. He had all but told him that he had people watching him – in case he decided to venture into muggle London.

Harry smirked. The Minister couldn't stop him from going anywhere – he had the Invisibility Cloak! He had found out from the ring that it could hide him from almost all means of detection. It could hide his sound, smell, aura, magical signature – anything he wanted – on command. In full concealment mode – as Harry liked to call it – the only way he could be found out was if somebody ran into him!

The next three weeks were some of the best in Harry's life. He spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly coloured umbrellas outside cafes, where his fellow diners were showing one another their purchases ("It's solid gold, old man!") or else discussing the case of Sirius Black ("Personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban").

Harry had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend a lot of money at once. Even though he had taken control of his family vault, he had decided to leave it alone for a while – he was afraid that Dumbledore might suspect something if he found out that he had bought such expensive things. And he was sure the old man would find out – sooner or later. Besides, he didn't want to look like a spoiled little prince, flaunting his wealth – like Malfoy.

The thing that tested Harry's resolution most appeared in his favourite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after he'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. It was the Firebolt – a state-of-the-art international standard racing broom. It specifications were far superior to those of his old Nimbus 2000. He had to keep reminding himself of the consequences of Dumbledore finding out to stop himself from buying it immediately. He decided to come back for it when he was emancipated.

However, he did buy a pair of contact lenses. The optician – a pretty muggleborn witch – was delighted to find a wizard interested in contact lenses. Apparently, most witches and wizards – which Harry translated as purebloods – didn't think it was safe to have something so close to their eyeballs. He also bought a pair of glasses in case he needed to take off the contact lenses in some situations. The contact lenses had the additional benefit of being able to change colour at the owner's whim.

As Harry was window-shopping, he came across a peculiar trunk. It had five compartments – all seemingly existing in the same space. The compartment that was exposed upon opening the lid was decided by the key that was used to open it. A couple of the compartments were as big as a room. Harry had a sudden burst of inspiration. He asked the shopkeeper for its price.

The shopkeeper looked at him disapprovingly, "That trunk is way too costly for you, kid! It's not meant for school-going children like you."

"That remains to be seen," Harry replied coldly, "besides, I am not planning on buying this one. I need a custom made trunk – you make them, don't you?"

The shopkeeper was taken aback at his tone, but he recovered quickly. He sneered, "And I suppose you have brought enough money for it?"

"How much?" asked Harry. His tone was still cold.

"Look kid, I'm in no mood for jokes. A custom made trunk of that type," he jerked his thumb towards the five compartment trunk, "will easily set you back by more than two hundred Galleons. Show me the money and I'll listen to you."

Harry smirked and emptied his money bag on the counter. It turned out to be just short of a thousand Galleons. The shopkeeper's demeanour changed within an instant.

"What sort of a trunk do you want, sir?"

The shopkeeper's eyes widened as Harry described the trunk he wanted. Finally, he said, "You are asking for a lot, sir. It'll take a lot of time to build – maybe three or four months – maybe more. I'll have to contact some of my overseas friends – some of the things you asked for are not easily available in England – some of them are even considered – borderline dark. All in all, it'll cost you around two to three thousand Galleons – maybe even more."

"Take all the time you need. I'll come back sometime around Christmas – or maybe next summer. And speak of this to nobody other than those involved in its making. In fact – I'll insist upon an oath to keep it as secret as possible. I'm sure some extra Galleons can get you the things that are – _borderline dark_. Here," he pointed to the pile of money lying on the counter, "you can keep this as advance payment. And you are allowed to be creative – as long as it makes the final product better."

The shopkeeper nodded and took the oath. "It was pleasure doing business with you, Mr …"

"Potter, Harry Potter."

Harry smiled at the gobsmacked look on the shopkeeper's face before turning around and getting out of the shop.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_ Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate them!

I know the idea of a magical trunk is rather cliché, but so is the idea of a family manor, or buying a new house. And Harry needs some place to live – and hide from Dumbledore, if needed. If all goes well, I might even be able to add some new elements to it – that's why I didn't describe the trunk right away.

About the will, I always found it odd that the Potters would keep their will in their vault – something only Harry could access. So the will can't be executed until Harry is old enough! It's somewhat like keeping the key inside the safe!

* * *

Here is an idea that's been cooking for some time. It's actually meant for a different story. Do you think it could be incorporated into this one?

Tom Riddle Jr. has a daughter/granddaughter – either a result of rape – or a he married some girl for some benefit - maybe some ancient artefact or a unique dark tome – and left her afterwards. The daughter/granddaughter is called something other than Riddle (most likely some minor character) and doesn't know of her origin. She turns out to be one of Harry's friends/allies.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Universal Law of FanFiction (Well, not so universal, applies only to active authors!)  
More Reviews = More Motivation = Faster Updates

So, please review!


	10. Interrogation and Confession

_**Author's Notes: **_A quick, but short update this time!

I have received some criticism about how I've portrayed Ron and Dumbledore. The only thing I can say is – you haven't heard their side yet. What you've read until now is what Harry thinks about things. Things may or may not be exactly as they seem. I intend to post a chapter reflecting Dumbledore's thoughts – I'll do it sometime during the fourth year – between first and second tasks to be precise. At present, it's hardly a thousand words long! For now, let there be a tiny bit of suspense. I'll try to do justice to each character and avoid excessive bashing.

The Bottom Line – This is a fan fiction. What's the point of writing it if everything is same as in canon?

**

* * *

There was one change in the first year that can't be explained through flashbacks – Ron wasn't Harry's best friend, that spot was claimed by Ginny. He was a friend, but not as close as in canon. In fact, Harry was closer to Hermione than Ron.

* * *

**

That said, Read, Review and enjoy!

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

_**Chapter 10: Interrogation and Confession**_

Harry woke up on the last day of the holidays, thinking he must have missed the Weasleys' visit to Diagon Alley. Well, he'd get to see them – especially Ginny – on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he'd have lunch, when he was jumped by a petite little redhead – looking incredibly freckly.

"Harry!" squealed Ginny, hugging him fiercely.

"Hey Freckles!" Harry hugged her back, but he let go pretty quickly – in case a certain idiotic redhead was around. Thankfully, that wasn't the case – there were no other redheads in sight.

Ginny punched him lightly on the arm, "Don't call me that, you prat!" she said, trying to glare, but failing miserably.

Harry laughed; he always found an angry Ginny to be amusing – well, as long as she wasn't seriously angry.

"What's so funny, if I may ask?"

Shaking his head, Harry replied, "Nothing Gin, I'm just glad you're back."

Ginny's features softened, "So am I, Harry. By the way, you didn't have to buy me an owl, you know."

"No, I didn't have to; but I wanted to. Next summer, you won't have to worry about Errol – if he survives that long."

Ginny giggled, "I named him Ptolemy. You should have seen Ron's face when he realised I had got an owl for myself. A bit of warning – be prepared for a massive Ron tantrum."

"I'm not worried, I'm sure you'll save me from your brother's wrath," said Harry in an overly dramatic tone, "my knight in err—black robes."

Ginny swatted him on the head, "Prat!"

"You still like me!"

Ginny stuck out her tongue, "Doesn't stop you from being a prat!"

They continued their banter for a few minutes. Finally Harry became serious, "I think we should go find your brother before he comes looking for his _baby _sister and assumes the worst."

They found Ron outside Magical Menagerie. He was, predictably, arguing with Hermione – over a ginger cat she had bought.

"….nearly scalped me!" Ron was saying.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks? And you will not call him a monster, _Ronald Weasley_!" said Hermione, glaring at Ron.

"You two just can't stop bickering, can you?" said Harry, loudly enough for Ron and Hermione to hear. Both of them turned around, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Harry!" Hermione enveloped him in a hug – still a little pink in the face. "Where have you been? We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left. Then we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and –"

"I got all my school stuff last week," said Harry, cutting across her rambling, "Hello Ron!"

"Hey Harry," said Ron unenthusiastically. Harry and Ginny weren't fazed. Hermione, on the other hand, had a frown on her face. Harry groaned; he had an interrogation coming as soon as he was alone.

They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing their summer. Harry didn't say anything about Dobby – he was sure Ron would blurt it out at some point or other. Ron had lightened up considerably when Harry had described the incident with Marge – this had probably something to do with Harry taking them to his favourite muggle restaurant for lunch – at his expense.

* * *

Harry returned to his room a little early that night, hoping to begin with third year Charms – only to find someone sitting on the edge of his bed – a bushy brown haired someone – with her nose buried in one of his books.

'Here comes the interrogation,' thought Harry. "Hermione?"

The said bushy haired witch looked up from the book. "Harry, we need to talk," she said in her usual bossy voice.

"Err—right now?"

"Yes, _right now._ It's rather hard to find you alone, you know!"

Harry sighed – there was no getting out of it this time – Hermione had him cornered. He crossed the room and sat beside her.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"It's you! There's obviously something wrong with you!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Care to explain?"

"I don't know where to begin…"

"Maybe at the beginning?" Harry added helpfully.

Hermione gave him an annoyed look at being interrupted in what must have been a well rehearsed speech. "It started at the beginning of our second year. You became awfully close to Ron – I'm not saying that's a bad thing – but it was like – you simply agreed to whatever he said. The Harry Potter I knew in our first year was nothing like that! You used to think for yourself!" She paused for a moment, "Do you remember, the two of us had decided to opt for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes? You even persuaded me not to take Divination and Muggle Studies. How come you ended up signing up for Divination and Care of Magical Creatures yourself?"

She continued when Harry didn't answer, "Then there's Ginny – the two of you used to be very good friends. Then suddenly you started avoiding her like plague! I talked to her – and she said she didn't know why. And you have been distant from Ron and me ever since I woke up. It just makes no sense whatsoever! What happened?" She looked at him with questioning eyes.

Harry had maintained a neutral face throughout the explanation. He wasn't sure of what to think – could this be an attempt to gain his trust? But looking into her eyes, he somehow knew that she was sincere – she really didn't know anything.

"Hermione, before I say anything – can you promise me not to repeat what I'm going to tell you – to anyone?"

"Of course! I thought you trusted me!" she said in an accusing tone.

"By anyone – I mean the teachers – and especially Dumbledore," said Harry, ignoring the last part.

Hermione looked confused, but promised anyway.

"Tell me, Hermione, what do you think of our first two years at Hogwarts?"

"Err—I don't understand…"

"Is it normal for students to have near death experiences twice in two years?"

"Oh no, not that again!" she said in an exasperated tone, "We have talked about this – why would Dumbledore endanger the lives of the students? He must have had his reasons to protect the Stone the way he did! And how can you even suggest that he had anything to do with the Chamber?"

"He didn't plant the diary on Ginny, alright – but how could he not know what was inside the Chamber? I mean, how many beasts can petrify students like that? And how many beasts fear roosters? On top of that, Salazar Slytherin was a well-known Parselmouth…" he shook his head, "I refuse to believe he had no idea! In fact, he had a head-start over us – he knew Myrtle had been the victim last time! No, he just sat back and watched!"

Hermione looked ready to protest, but Harry silenced her with a gesture, "I know for a fact that he had been dosing me with Draught of Slavery throughout the year."

"WHAT!"

"Keep it down, will you?"

"Sorry, but how..."

"You remember how I used to have trouble with spells even though the wand movement and incantations were correct? And the restricting feeling I told you about? That's because my magic is bound. The block is a seven stage block – one of the worst. All seven stages can't be applied at once – not without killing the victim due to magical starvation. It has to be done over a period of two or three years – maybe more – for a child. I have several memory blocks in my mind – something that a minor should never have – it may cause serious brain damage with tiniest bit of mistake. These are things no ordinary wizard can do. And I'm supposed to be _safe_ at Privet Drive – protected by blood wards – tell me, who else could have done it?"

Hermione tried to say something, but he cut her off, "That's not all! I had multiple tracking charms placed upon my cloak and glasses. I still have them on my wand – I can't do any magic without informing him."

It was Hermione's turn to cut him off, "These are all speculations – while there's some chance that Dumbledore might have done these things – there is no conclusive proof. Why would Dumbledore do such horrible things? And how do you know these things were done to you anyway?"

"I have got someone helping me – someone with far more knowledge of magic than Dumbledore. No, don't ask me who it is – I can't tell you right now. Besides, you won't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Hermione challenged.

"Just drop it for now, please! Anyway, I do have conclusive proof. About a week into the term, Ron took me to see the Headmaster, who used active Legilimency – the art of reading thoughts and memories," he added at Hermione's confused look, "to break into my mind – which is a crime in itself. I'm a natural Occlumens – which means it's very difficult to break into my mind. He had dosed me with some potion to damage my natural defences. Then he ordered me to forget all about my suspicions and consider the block on my magic to be natural and obey Ron without question – all in the name of some Greater Good bullshit. I had no choice but to obey – thanks to the Draught of Slavery. That's what Ron has been using to control me – he ordered me to avoid Ginny. Is that conclusive enough for you?"

Hermione looked horrified. "I'm so sorry, Harry, it's my fault. I asked him about the things you suspected. He must have somehow guessed it was you who had raised those questions!"

"And you accuse me of not trusting you! You think the world is perfect like your books. Authority figures can never be wrong, can they?" he sneered. "How many times do you have to be proven wrong to accept it? Quirrell, Snape, Lockhart, Dumbledore – how many more do you need? Your moment of brilliance nearly lost me my free will – and nearly got Ginny killed – and Voldemort resurrected!" Harry's wasn't shouting – but there was no mistaking the tone – he was angry – very angry indeed.

Hermione broke into sobs, "I'm s-sorry. I never thought – D-Dumbledore, of all people! Give me another chance – just this once – I'll do anything – I'll never b-betray you again. You were the first – and o-only – real f-friend I ever had. Please!" she was literally begging.

"How do I know you won't go running to Dumbledore, or some other teacher – for that matter?" Harry asked coldly.

"I swear! I'll think before speaking! And I won't talk about your secrets – even indirectly. Please give me a chance to redeem myself!" Hermione begged.

They sat in silence for a while – Harry was trying to control his anger while Hermione was crying with her face in her hands. The rational part of him knew that Hermione couldn't possibly have known the consequences of her actions – and Dumbledore would probably have used Legilimency anyway, but the angry part still blamed her for all of it.

After a couple of minutes, Hermione got up and moved towards the door. When she was there, she turned and said, in a sad voice, "I know what I've done is unforgivable and I have more than likely lost you as a friend. But if there is anything I can do for you – just give me a chance to repay my debt. And I'll never repeat anything you said tonight." She reached for the doorknob, but the door burst open before she had even touched it, to reveal a distraught looking Ginny

"Harry! It's awful! I just heard Mum and Dad talking –" she stopped at the sight of Hermione.

"What is it, Gin?" asked Harry, "Don't worry about Hermione, she can be trusted."

Hermione looked up hopefully at his words.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have said all that. You had no way of knowing – and Dumbledore would probably have used Legilimency anyway. I'm really sorry… Look, we both made mistakes – can we leave them behind. Can I have my friend back?"

Hermione nearly bowled him over in her eagerness to hug him. When she finally let go, there was a wide smile on her face.

Ginny, who had watched the exchange with confusion, cleared her throat to get their attention, "Mind telling me what is this all about?"

"I'll tell you later, Ginny," replied Hermione, "She knows, doesn't she?" she asked Harry.

"Yes – that makes the three of us. Now, what did you want to tell me, Gin?"

"It's Sirius Black! He broke out of Azkaban to kill you! That's what Dad told Mum – they were arguing about what to tell you. Apparently, Fudge and Dumbledore have forbidden them to say anything. Dad wants to tell you, but Mum thinks you'd be terrified."

"That's why Fudge was here! That's what he was hiding – it all fits now! He told me not to venture into muggle London and even had some people watching me round the clock! Makes sense – why bother telling me – it's not like he can kill me unless I know about him." Harry finished sarcastically.

"Aren't you scared?" asked Ginny, while Hermione was staring at him, open-mouthed.

"What's so new about it? Someone's always trying to kill me. And Sirius Black can't be more dangerous than Voldemort, can he? "

Hermione finally found her tongue, "Harry! You'll have to be careful. Don't go looking for trouble."

Harry laughed, "I never go looking for trouble, Hermione. You should know that better than anybody. Trouble usually finds me – I can't help it! By the way, did I tell you about my girlfriend?" Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood up.

"G—Girlfriend?" stammered Hermione, as if she had never heard the word before.

Harry dragged a blushing Ginny to his side, "Freckles here, agreed to be my girlfriend last June."

"I told you not to call me that!" Ginny glared at him, "And I thought it was supposed to be a secret!"

"But you are too young – especially Ginny!" protested Hermione.

"Relax Hermione, we aren't actually doing anything. We'll officially start dating sometime in my fourth year. I just eliminated any competition before it even began!" said Harry, with a smirk.

"For now it's like best friends – with a bit of snogging," added Ginny, with a smirk.

"Hey, I am yet to snog you," protested Harry.

"Would you like to do it right now? I'm sure Hermione won't mind," said Ginny. Her tone was mischievous.

In an attempt to drive the conversation away from snogging, Hermione interrupted, "Is there any way to stop them from reading my thoughts? You said something about Occlumens…"

"I can teach you some basic meditation exercises for now. You need to sort your memories and build some defences before moving on to the advanced forms of Occlumency. How is _your_ Occlumency coming along, Gin?"

"I think I can keep them at bay long enough to break eye contact – and I can repel some weak attacks. The twins gave me some very good pointers," replied Ginny.

Hermione spent the next hour learning basic exercises for Occlumency. Ginny had returned to her – and Hermione's – room after sharing the pointers the twins had given her, in case somebody decided to check on them.

Before leaving, Hermione pulled Harry into another hug, "Thanks for giving me a chance, Harry. I'll make sure you don't regret it."

"I know, Mione, I shouldn't have said all those things either..."

Hermione released him and turned to leave. She was nearly at the door when he said, "Remember to behave normally – we don't want to raise any suspicions. And one more thing, you are going to get some serious competition for the top spot this year," he added with a smirk.

"Bring it on!" she said with a smile.

* * *

The next day, they reached King's Cross with ten minutes to spare. The Ministry had provided two cars for the occasion. While Mr Weasley had said they were just doing him a favour, Harry knew their exact purpose – they were there for him – not that he was complaining. He had already given Dobby some money and told him to take a vacation. The elf was reluctant at first – but had agreed when Harry had promised to call him whenever he needed something.

Mr Weasley crossed the barrier leading to platform nine and three-quarters with Harry. Before the others could follow, he dragged him behind a pillar.

"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave –" said Mr Weasley, in a tense voice.

"Sirius Black is after me, isn't he?" asked Harry emotionlessly.

"You know? How could you know?"

"It was some of the things Fudge said," Harry lied easily. "It's the only explanation that makes any sense. And you just confirmed it."

Mr Weasley smiled, "You are quite sharp, Harry!" Then his face became serious, "Listen, I want you to give me your word –"

"—that I'll be a good boy and stay in the castle?" asked Harry, once again showing no emotion.

"Not entirely," said Mr Weasley, who looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him. "Harry, swear to me you won't go _looking _for Black."

Harry stared. "What?"

"Arthur!" called Mrs Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. "Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!"

"He's coming, Molly!" said Mr Weasley but he turned back to Harry and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice. "Promise me, Harry, that whatever happens –"

"Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?" said Harry blankly.

"Swear to me – whatever you might hear –"

He was interrupted by a loud whistle.

"Arthur, quickly!" cried Mrs Weasley.

Harry ran to the compartment door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr and Mrs Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.

"Let's find a compartment," said Harry.

"Go away, Ginny," said Ron. He was in a bad mood because of his arguments with Percy and Hermione that morning. Percy had accused him of spoiling his girlfriend's photograph and bewitching his Head Boy badge while Hermione had said she'd let Crookshanks out on the train.

"No, come with us, Gin," Harry overruled him, glaring at Ron. Ron's ears turned red – Harry knew a tantrum was coming soon. Fortunately, Ron managed to restrain himself for the moment and followed them in search of a compartment – looking angry.

All the compartments were full – or taken by unfriendly people – except for one at the very end of the train – which had only one occupant – a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray. Hermione found his name – _Professor R. J. Lupin_ – stamped on his case in peeling letters. The case itself was battered and was held together by with a large quantity of neatly knotted string.

They spent a couple of hours talking about various topics like Hogsmeade, Quidditch and Sirius Black. Nobody mentioned the conversation Ginny had overheard last night. Ron had stopped sulking after some time and enthusiastically described how the Chudley Cannons had finally managed to move up in the league. Harry had a mad desire to bang his head against something – Chudley Cannons had been at the bottom of the league for last seven years – and they hadn't won the championship for thirteen – not since their legendry Seeker and Chasers had retired. Besides, he enjoyed playing Quidditch – or flying, to be exact – not listening to endless rants about it!

They were spared by the arrival of the food cart. As usual, Harry bought a bunch of sweets for them to munch on. They debated on whether to wake Professor Lupin; but decided against it. They spent another hour in peace before they were disturbed – by Malfoy and his cronies.

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.

"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Harry, on the other hand, smirked, "_I_ heard somebody dropped a smelly sock on your father's head, Malfoy – and he's so thick that he gave it to your house-elf. Did you spend the summer cleaning your house, Draco? Daddy gave you an elf's job?"

Malfoy turned red, "Watch your mouth, Potter! My father…"

"…is an idiot – just like you." Harry finished he sentence. "Well, if the three of you are anything to go by, we can't really expect much from bigoted purebloods."

The look on Malfoy's face was priceless – Ron, Hermione and Ginny burst out laughing. Malfoy pulled out his wand while Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly. At that precise moment Professor Lupin gave a snort and Malfoy noticed him for the first time.

"Who's that?" said Malfoy.

"New teacher," replied Harry. "Now, why don't you tuck your tail between your legs and go back to your compartment?"

Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.

"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

"That was awesome, mate. You shut Malfoy up – without hexing him," Ron said in wonder.

"You could've done it too, Ron – if only you used that brain of yours," said Ginny.

Ron turned pink and left he compartment, mumbling something about visiting the twins

Harry wasn't paying attention. Malfoy visit had just reminded him of the diary. Finally he spoke, in a voice barely above a whisper, "It was Lucius Malfoy who planted the diary on you, Ginny."

There were cries of "What?" and "How do you know?" from the two girls.

"Last year, at Flourish and Blott's – he picked up a book from your cauldron, insulted you Dad and got into a fight with him. Then he casually replaced the book. If my memory serves correctly – it was the _Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_…"

Ginny gasped, "That's the book I found it in! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I never got a chance. I realised the truth at the platform, when I saw Dobby dragging Draco's trunk. He confirmed it later."

"You were the one who freed him, weren't you?" asked Ginny.

"Oh yeah, it was me. I couldn't leave the poor little elf with them, could I? And it turned out to be a good thing too," replied Harry, with a smirk.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"He came to visit you? I mean – I saw him vanish moments after Malfoy – and you said he confirmed it later..." said Ginny.

"I'll tell you later," Harry said with a glance towards Professor Lupin.

Ginny took out her wand and cast some charms around them. "Basic privacy charms – Bill taught me," she explained.

Harry smiled, "Nice one, Gin. You must teach me!" Then he proceeded to tell them everything about his summer – including Dobby's role and his visit to Gringotts. The girls were furious when he told them that the Dursley's were being paid to keep him.

"Ah, that reminds me, can I borrow some parchment and a quill, Hermione?"

He wrote a letter to Gringotts, telling them to stop transferring money to the Dursleys. He had decided not to stop the money going to the scholarship fund. He didn't want to be the cause of some poor student having to abandon their education – and he was sure Dumbledore would know if he did that. Dursleys didn't have any means of contacting Dumbledore – not that they would want to – so the old geezer won't know anything until the next summer.

"Listen; keep all of this between yourselves. I don't want to face Lucius Malfoy right now. And I'm sure Ron will do something stupid and land us all in trouble if he finds out."

The girls nodded. They sat in silence for a while, thinking about the things they had learned. After a while Harry stood up.

"I think we are almost there. Do you think we should wake him up?" he said, looking towards Professor Lupin.

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why are we stopping?"

* * *

Harry Potter was lying in his four-poster bed – seething. How could the morons at the Ministry even consider deploying dementors around a school full of children? Those foul creatures couldn't distinguish a child from a criminal! It was a good thing the Headmaster had refused to let them enter the grounds. He shuddered to think what the life at Hogwarts would have been otherwise. Sooner or later, some students would have been kissed for sure. All of this was being done to catch one criminal whom they didn't even affect – according to the conversation Ginny had overheard between her parents. How stupid the ministry could be! They could simply have setup wards and deployed Aurors.

Earlier, those foul creatures had searched the train for Sirius Black. The effect those things had on people! He had passed out and was forced to relive the worst moments of his life. He had heard a woman pleading with someone, a cackle of cold, cruel laughter and the two fateful words – _Avada Kedavra_. He had heard the last moments of his mother's life! A few hours ago, he'd have given anything to remember his parents – but not like this! On top of that, the whole school had heard of his fainting – Malfoy had made sure of that. As sleep finally claimed him – he vowed to learn how to drive them away – or even destroy them, if that was possible.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **_A heartfelt thanks to all those who reviewed!

I'm dropping Riddle's offspring idea for this story – it's too complicated – and most of you don't want it anyway. I'm keeping it for a new fic!

If you have any innovative ideas about the trunk, please let me know. It doesn't necessarily have to be a trunk – the only requirement is that it should be a movable home – like a tent or something – which he can carry on his person.

* * *

Universal Law of FanFiction (Well, not so universal, applies only to active authors!)  
More Reviews = More Motivation = Faster Updates

So, please review!


	11. Beginning of a New Year

_**Author's Notes:** _I'm really sorry that I couldn't post for so long, but end semester exams left me with hardly any time to type.

I'd also like to apologize if I failed to respond to any of the reviews personally. I didn't have internet connection for a few days, then I sort of lost track of the reviews I had already replied to. I've answered all the questions at the end.

Some people said that the whole Hermione thing was rushed. Looking back, I admit, it does seem a bit rushed. The argument should have been a bit longer. In my defence, I'd say that deep down; Hermione is very a very insecure girl. She has never had any friends and anybody who wants to be her friend is to get her homework done. Harry is the only one who is an exception. So, she doesn't want to lose him. Seeing Harry angry like that made her realise that if she argued any more that might be the end of their friendship. So she did the only thing she could, she begged for forgiveness.

It's one of the points where the story could have taken any one of the two directions. If Hermione had argued too long, that would have been the beginning of Hermione-bashing fic, something I don't really like. In canon, she stood by him, no matter what happened, unlike a certain redheaded idiot.

If I ever go back and redo the last chapter, I'll try to make it more convincing.

I omitted the whole dementor on the train scene because it was supposed to happen almost exactly like canon, so there was hardly any point copying the book.

About Ron – He isn't evil; he's just being his usual idiotic and jealous self.

About Dumbledore – he isn't exactly evil either; but he isn't above using some underhanded techniques to achieve what he wants.

If you don't like my characters, you can go read some other fics where the characters are portrayed exactly as in canon; there are plenty of them on this site. I don't want people flaming me for how I've portrayed my characters. Other than that, any constructive criticism is welcome.

Read Review and Enjoy!

_**Disclaimer:**_ Harry Potter isn't mine!

* * *

_**Chapter 11: Beginning of a New Year**_

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny went to breakfast the next morning to find Malfoy entertaining the Slytherins with what seemed like a very funny story. As they passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

"Ignore him," said Hermione, who was right behind Harry. "Just ignore him; it's not worth it…"

"Hey, Potter!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson, "Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! _Woooooooo_!"

To everybody's astonishment, Harry burst out laughing. "Dementors won't come anywhere near _you_, Parkinson," he said, once he had stopped laughing. "Judging by way Draco fainted, I'd say you are uglier than a dementor! I'm sure they would try their best to avoid you – the dementors, I mean."

It was Ginny and Ron's turn to laugh. Even Hermione managed a weak chuckle. Malfoy and Parkinson turned scarlet – but they could hardly do anything with teachers watching.

"Well done, Harry!" said George, as Harry sat beside him on the Gryffindor table.

"Yeah, that was brilliant, mate!" added Fred.

"Seems like young Harry might make a decent prankster yet…" said George.

"…despite the company he keeps." Fred finished the sentence, looking pointedly at Ron and Hermione, both of whom were oblivious to the conversation – Ron was busy stuffing his face while Hermione had her nose buried in her new Arithmancy book.

"Shut it, you two!" said Ginny.

"Seems like our baby sister…" began Fred.

"Finish that sentence and you'll get a first hand demo of some of the curses Bill taught me this summer," threatened Ginny, fingering her wand. "And what's so funny, Harry?"

Harry, who was smirking at the sight of Ginny threatening her brother, was spared from answering by the arrival of Professor McGonagall, who was distributing their course schedules.

Harry glanced at his schedule and groaned – they had Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherins – as if they didn't get enough of them in Potions!

"Hermione, why didn't you opt for Divination – I mean, that's the easiest subject there is – you could easily get an Outstanding!" said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder.

"I'm not interested in fortune-telling, Ronald," snapped Hermione. She had never really liked Ron – and after the recent revelations, she found it rather hard to be polite to him.

Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and was absentmindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand. "All righ'?" he said eagerly, pausing on the way to the staff table. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready… Hope it's okay… Me, a teacher… hones'ly…"

He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.

"Wonder what he's been getting ready?" said Ron, a note of anxiety in his voice.

Harry had a feeling of impending disaster – whatever had made Hagrid so happy couldn't possibly be fit for third year students. For the hundredth time since he had received the Monster Book of Monsters, he wondered if it had been the right choice to opt for Care of Magical Creatures. Had Hagrid not been his friend, he would have dropped it immediately after he had found out who the teacher was. Hagrid, while a very good man, had a strange affinity to what other people would call terrifying monsters. On top of that, Salazar had never been interested in any magical creatures – other than serpents – the ring wouldn't be of much help.

Harry hastily finished his breakfast, said goodbye to Ginny and the twins and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall – with Ron following him.

"Where are you going, mate? Divination's at the top of North Tower," asked Ron when Harry tried to follow Hermione to the Arithmancy classroom.

"Arithmancy," replied Harry. Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"What d'you mean _Arithmancy_? You signed up for Divination!" said Ron indignantly.

"I changed my mind – or rather, I chose what I wanted in the first place. Like Hermione said, _I'm not interested in fortune-telling_," said Harry coolly. Ron's ears turned red.

"But – but you're supposed to –" Ron spluttered.

"Supposed to what, exactly?" Harry arched an eyebrow. Hermione looked rather amused.

Ron turned on his heel and stormed off, muttering under his breath.

Harry had known the confrontation was coming. And he was sure the Headmaster would hear of it very soon. As a precaution, he had taken a mild potion that would give him some time to take antidotes in case he was dosed again – and carried a few vials of the antidotes on him – as did Hermione and Ginny.

"Relax Harry – I doubt he allowed Ron to control you to this extent. Maybe, he won't report it for the fear of being punished for overstepping his authority," said Hermione, in a low voice.

"Be quiet, Hermione, we don't know who might be listening," Harry said in a voice barely above a whisper. He looked around, checking for any portraits and ghosts – thankfully, there were none in the hearing range. He dropped his voice even further, "The portraits and the ghosts report to _him_ – be careful about what you say."

Hermione nodded, "Sorry, I didn't know…"

They reached the Arithmancy classroom with only a couple of minutes to spare. Looking around, Harry realised they were the only Gryffindors present – the rest were Ravenclaws. Harry wondered if there was a single Ravenclaw in their year who hadn't opted for Arithmancy.

Professor Vector was a stern looking witch in her late forties. She started the class by taking the roll call. Once she was satisfied everyone was present, she moved on to introduction to the subject.

"Arithmancy is the basis of modern spell-crafting and warding. Unlike most of the other subjects you study at Hogwarts, it doesn't have any applications in day to day life. From the career point of view, it's mandatory for curse-breakers, warding-experts, wand-makers, magical forensic experts – any field where you have to think beyond standard spells. But I must warn you, it's highly dangerous to tinker with spells – a little mistake can be fatal. Never use a customised spell without my approval. Apart from academic purposes, you need a spell-crafter's licence to develop new spells – an option that's available only to those who score at least an Exceeds Expectations at NEWT level…"

* * *

"Well, it was an interesting lesson," said Hermione, as they emerged from Arithmancy classroom.

"It was? I thought it was rather difficult!" said Harry. "Anyway, what's next?"

"Transfiguration," replied Hermione.

They hurried towards the Transfiguration classroom, not wanting to be late for McGonagall on the first day of classes. As usual, Harry had to drag Hermione away from the front row. As they took their seats in the third row – away from Ron, who was sitting at the back of the class with Dean, looking surly – they noticed something was off about the class. Nobody was talking and people kept shooting furtive glances at Neville, who was sitting at the far corner of the room, with his head in his hands. Harry was about to ask somebody what had happened when Professor McGonagall arrived.

After the usual start of the year lecture, outlining the things they'd be doing throughout the year, Professor McGonagall proceeded to explain about Animagi – wizards who could transform into animals at will. Harry smiled when she turned into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint _pop, _and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Everybody's heads turned toward Neville again, but nobody spoke. Then Parvati raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and –"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Patil. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone stared at her. Neville raised his hand slowly – he was literally shaking.

"I see," said Professor McGonagall, fixing Neville with her beady eyes. "Then you should know, Longbottom, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues…"

Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney –" she stopped again.

"—is a fraud," Harry muttered under his breath. Hermione looked at him oddly, but didn't comment.

Professor McGonagall continued, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Longbottom, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

Nearly everybody laughed; even Neville managed a smile.

* * *

Harry was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Ron was yet to speak to them since the morning – something that suited them just fine. They had decided to get to Hagrid's hut a little early to try and get an idea of what kind of monsters they would be facing.

When they were sufficiently far away from the castle, Hermione spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "Err—Harry, Could you tell me a little more about the whole thing? I mean – if you don't mind. I'm not trying to be nosy or anything…" she trailed off nervously.

Harry chuckled, "No need to sound so nervous, Hermione – I won't bite you. And I can't tell you everything, not until you have learnt Occlumency – but I'll try to explain as much as I can. Meet me in the library after dinner – and bring Ginny if you can."

Hermione nodded. They covered the rest of the distance debating what kind of a monster Hagrid had prepared for them.

"Hullo there – Harry, Hermione!" Hagrid greeted them in his usual cheery way. "Hang on, there's one missin', where's Ron?"

"Err—he'll join us later. Anyway, what're you gonna teach us today, Hagrid?" Harry tried to change the subject hurriedly.

"Nah, not tellin'. That's a surprise fer yeh lot. Trus' me, yeh'll like it!"

Harry's heart sank; Hagrid couldn't possibly be so excited over a harmless creature.

"It isn't – dangerous, is it?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Dangerous? Nah, not unless yeh're stupid enough to provoke 'em. Anyway, how d'yeh like the book?"

"Err—not to be rude, but the _book_ tried to bite my fingers off when I tried to open it. I had to shut it with Spellotape to stop it from making a racket…" Hermione trailed off, looking embarrassed.

"Must have been the first book you didn't try to read as soon as you got it," Harry teased. Hermione turned pink.

Hagrid, on the other hand, looked crestfallen, "Yeh haven't been able ter open yer books?"

Harry and Hermione shook their heads in unison.

"Yeh've got ter _stroke _'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look –"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"I – I thought they were funny," Hagrid said nervously.

"It's all right, Hagrid. It really is funny – once you figure out how to open it!" Harry tried to console his huge friend. As much as he disliked Hagrid's fascination with dangerous creatures, he could never dislike Hagrid himself.

Thankfully, they had managed to cheer Hagrid up by the time the rest of the class arrived – because it was a combined class with Slytherins – and Draco Malfoy was among the first to arrive, flanked by his regular bodyguards. Why Malfoy had chosen to study the subject was beyond Harry – he certainly wasn't the type to care about magical creatures.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; Harry had had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last him a lifetime. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Predictably, nobody had been able to open the book – something Malfoy didn't fail to give Hagrid grief over. When they had all managed to open their books, Hagrid strode away from them into the forest and out of sight. Malfoy continued his rant about Hagrid – something Harry chose to ignore.

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different colour – stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

Harry listened with fascination as Hagrid explained about the hippogriffs. On the other hand, Malfoy and his cronies weren't listening; they were probably plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.

"Right – who wants ter go first?" asked Hagrid, once he had finished explaining.

Most of the class backed away in answer. Even Harry had misgivings. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry.

He approached the grey Hippogriff – Buckbeak – and bowed, as Hagrid had explained. The Hippogriff bowed back after a minute.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right – yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out towards it. He patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him!"

Riding a hippogriff was uncomfortable, to say the least. Unlike his Nimbus 2000, he didn't have anything to hold on to. He felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the hippogriff rose and fell with its wings. Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock before depositing him back to the ground. Fortunately, Harry managed a graceful landing.

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Harry helped Hermione with the chestnut. Ron had partnered with Dean and Seamus.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it… I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

Harry knew what was about to happen – he pulled out his wand and used the first curse that came to his mind.

"_Expelliarmus__!"_

He had deliberately overpowered the spell. As a result, Malfoy was blasted away from the range of the hippogriff's rapidly descending talons, taking Crabbe with him. Goyle wasn't so lucky – Buckbeak's talons landed on his legs. Goyle let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy.

Ron ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Goyle easily. As they passed, Harry saw that there was a long, deep gash on Goyle's leg; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid and Harry.

"They should fire him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson.

"I'll get you back for that, Potter!" Malfoy threatened Harry.

"Are you completely daft, Malfoy? Had it not been for Harry, you would be the one in Goyle's position. It would have been worse for you, you were closer to Buckbeak. And it was your fault in the first place, Hagrid had warned not to insult them," Hermione said hotly.

"Who asked for your opinion, you jumped-up, know-it-all mud–"

"Finish the sentence and you'll wish Buckbeak had got you," Harry said in a deadly voice, pointing his wand at Malfoy's throat.

"Get lost, you bunch of ungrateful snakes," Ron had finally caught up with them, though he still refused to look at Harry.

Malfoy looked like he wanted to say something, but the rest of the Gryffindors had pulled out their wands, and there were very few Slytherins in Care of Magical Creatures. He stormed off towards the castle, followed by the rest of the Slytherins.

* * *

After dinner, Harry met Hermione and Ginny in library. Surprisingly enough, there had been no attempts to dose him with Draught of Slavery again – not that he knew of. Maybe Ron hadn't informed the Headmaster, as Hermione had predicted. In any case, Harry wasn't complaining. After making sure that nobody was looking, he took out his invisibility cloak and threw it over himself and the two girls. He mentally commanded it go into full concealment mode.

"Harry, what is this all about?" asked Ginny.

"We are going to the Room of Requirements. Hermione wants to know more," replied Harry.

"What is the _Room of Requirements_?" asked Hermione, bewildered.

"Later, Mione," said Harry, as they moved out of the library.

"Wait, what if there are tracking charms on her?" asked Ginny.

"Don't worry, Gin. The cloak will conceal us completely," Harry replied with a smirk.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure? Wasn't Dumbledore using them to track you?"

"That's because the charms were on the cloak itself. And I wasn't using the cloak in full concealment mode."

"What _mode_?"

"Later! Now move – we don't have much time until curfew." Harry positioned himself between the two girls and put one arm around each girl's shoulders, pushing them towards their destination.

They reached the Room of Requirements about ten minutes later, having had to move slowly in order to stay concealed.

"_I want a room to discuss things of sensitive nature, where nobody can find us, or overhear us, by any means. By us, I mean myself, Ginny and Hermione. Nobody else should be able to enter it and the door should disappear once I enter the room. It should reappear only when I want it to," _Harry hissed, with the palm of his right hand on the centre of the blank stretch of the wall. Browsing through Salazar's knowledge of Hogwarts during the summer, he had found that the room had to be told exactly what it had to become. He tried to remove any loophole that might lead to them being discovered.

A black door, devoid of any decorations, appeared before them. Harry pulled it open and motioned for the girls to step in. He followed them to find a small, dark room with three uncomfortable looking wooden chairs and a rickety table. There were no decorations. All in all, it looked very gloomy.

"You forgot to add _comfortable_, you prat," said Ginny, swatting him on the shoulder.

"You could understand what he said?" asked Hermione, wide-eyed.

"Of course, couldn't you?" asked a confused Ginny.

Hermione shook her head, "It was Parseltongue, Ginny."

"What? It sounded like English!"

"To a Parselmouth, it sounds like their native language, Gin. You need to pay close attention to distinguish the hissing," said Harry.

"But how…"

"I don't know, Ginny. Add this to the list of questions we need to ask _him. _Let's get out and ask for a more comfortable room for now. You try this time."

"But—but I don't know how to speak Parseltongue," said Ginny. She still looked shocked.

"Concentrate upon a snake while speaking. And no need to look so shocked, it can be advantageous in some dire situation, you know," said Harry.

Stepping outside the room, Ginny placed the palm of her right hand on the centre of the wall and said, "I want a comfortable…"

"English," interrupted Harry, "Concentrate on the snake."

It took Ginny two more tries to get it right. Finally, they stepped into a smaller version of the Gryffindor common room, with three comfortable chairs and a table in the centre. Ginny had also added an alarm to warn them if someone was near the door.

* * *

"Harry, you do realise that Ron might not know about the whole thing. Dumbledore might just have told him he had some form of control over you," said Hermione. Harry had just finished telling her all about their suspicions and discoveries, except for Salazar and the Hallows. She had turned white when he told her about what had really happened in Dumbledore's office at the end of the last term and what had really happened to Lockhart.

Harry could tell that Hermione was having a hard time accepting things that were completely against everything she had ever been taught, but, to her credit, she didn't protest – not too much.

"I'd be astonished if he did, Hermione. No, I'm angry because he saw a chance to control me and jumped to it. He should've told me, or at least he shouldn't have taken advantage of it. He was supposed to be my friend, for Merlin's sake!" said Harry.

Hermione nodded. "There's more, isn't there?" she asked.

"The so called _blood wards!_" spat Harry, "I'm pretty sure it's nothing but a bunch of lies. Can you imagine Dumbledore using Dark Magic? And even if he did, I doubt wards work just because someone calls some place – _home_; not that I have ever considered Privet Drive home – especially since I found about Hogwarts… Come to think of it, I don't stay inside the house all the time. If somebody was so eager to kill me, all they had to do was wait for me to come out! And I stayed at the Leaky Cauldron this summer!" He shook his head, "No, I believe it's just an excuse to keep me there."

"But Harry, we have agreed Dumbledore doesn't want you dead. He couldn't have left you vulnerable like that!" protested Hermione.

"Oh no, he didn't. I'm pretty sure he has some way to monitor if I'm in danger. Think about it Hermione, even magic can't heal broken bones by itself. Somebody came to heal me when I was beaten too badly and then obliviated me. And how come the Dursleys could beat me up in first place, if the blood wards were keeping me safe?"

"Did they really beat you up that badly?" asked Hermione timidly.

Harry laughed humourlessly. "That's just the tip of the iceberg, Mione. But I'd rather not go into it."

"He lived in a cupboard till he was eleven, Hermione," Ginny added, "And you promised to tell me all about it, Harry."

"Not now, Gin. And we won't have any secrets when we start with Legilimency," said Harry.

Ginny huffed, "I won't think any less of you, you know!"

"They kept you in a cupboard!" Hermione said weakly.

Harry nodded, "I don't like to talk about it, Hermione."

"Oh no, Harry Potter, I'll find out all about it. That's it, I'm learning Legilimency too," said the bushy headed witch, with her arms crossed.

Harry chuckled, "Like you wouldn't have learned otherwise!"

Hermione blushed, but recovered pretty quickly, "I'm going to read about blood wards, Harry. If your suspicions are confirmed, you are staying with me this summer. I'll persuade my parents somehow."

"Thanks, Mione!" Harry smiled genuinely. "I wasn't planning to stay there anyway. I doubt they'd take me in, now that I've stopped the money... Look Hermione, you aren't likely to find anything about blood wards outside the Restricted Section – it's Dark Magic, remember? If you are so keen to research something, help me research the laws related to emancipation. I'll give you the books I bought at Flourish and Blotts. I'd do it myself, but all the legal language makes me feel sleepy," he finished looking sheepish.

To Harry's amusement, Hermione looked excited like a child who has been promised a mountain of candy at the prospect of new books. "Are you sure you want to get emancipated?" she asked, barely suppressing her excitement.

"Of course, Mione, I don't want anyone to have any control over me. And be discrete, I doubt the old man will let me out of his control so easily..." he trailed off.

There was a minute of silence Hermione checked her watch, "I think we should get going; It's past curfew already."

"Just one more thing, let me check you for any tracking charms," said Harry. He had learnt all about tracking charms during the summer.

He waved his wand in some complicated patterns all over Hermione's body, while chanting in Latin.

"Hmm… seems like you are clean," said Harry.

"Where did you learn that? It looked like really complicated piece of magic!" asked Hermione, looking somewhat miffed that Harry knew something she didn't.

Harry smirked, "Let's just say it's another thing I picked up from the mysterious benefactor of ours!"

Hermione huffed, "And I suppose you won't tell me about him?"

"Not yet, Mione. But I promise, I'll tell you once you've learnt Occlumency, provided that I have his permission. Now, don't think too much about all this when you are around Dumbledore or Snape, they can pick up surface thoughts without using their wands. Or better still; avoid eye contact with those two as far as you can!"

Hermione nodded again. Then she remembered something, "You said something about some mode of your cloak?"

Harry looked uncomfortable, "My cloak is different from other invisibility cloaks. It's special; it can hide anything – sound, smell, magical signature, aura – anything I tell it to. In full concealment mode, the only way to detect you would be to run into you. And I am the only one who can command it. Look, there's more to it, but wait till you have learnt Occlumency. It's very dangerous piece of knowledge. In wrong hands, it can be disastrous…"

"Okay Harry, but I'll expect a full explanation later," said Hermione.

"I know I can't keep you from learning something," said harry chuckling.

Cautiously, they stepped out of the room and left for the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady scolded them for being late, but thankfully, the resident idiot of Gryffindor Tower had gone to bed. Harry was sure Ron would've said something nasty upon seeing him with Ginny, even if Hermione was with them.

* * *

In what seemed like no time, Harry was being shaken awake by Neville.

"Harry, wake up. You'll be late for Potions," Neville was saying.

"Snape will kill you," said Seamus, hitting him with a pillow.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry descended the boys' staircase to find Hermione and Ginny waiting for him. Hermione – to nobody's surprise – was reading a thick tome while Ginny was playing with Crookshanks.

"Good morning, Ginny, Hermione," greeted Harry.

"Morning, Harry," chorused the girls.

Together, they went to the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron was already there, shovelling down bacon at a disgusting rate. The trio made a point to sit as far away from him as possible.

After a quick breakfast, Ginny walked off towards the greenhouses while Harry and Hermione trotted towards the dungeons. Ron hadn't stopped eating yet.

They reached the Potions classroom just in time. Harry and Hermione took adjacent seats near the back of the classroom. Looking around, Harry realised that the idiotic trio – Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were absent, as was Ron – who was busy filling his Black Hole of a stomach – as Hermione called it.

"Settle down," said an oily voice, signalling that Snape had arrived.

They were submitting their summer homework when Ron barged in.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, Weasley. And it will be detention unless you submit your homework within the next minute."

Ron hurriedly took out a scroll from his bag and handed it to Snape, before making a beeline for Harry and Hermione. His ears turned red when he realised that there was no space for him anywhere near them. Reluctantly, he took a seat in the front row, alone.

"Today we shall start with a new Potion – Shrinking Solution. It's more complex than anything you have brewed during the last two years. I don't expect a perfect solution from any of you, but…" he was interrupted by the arrival of Malfoy and his goons. Goyle was using a crutch.

"Settle down," said Snape. Harry was used to this blatant favouritism. It didn't bother him anymore. Ron, on the other hand, was a different story.

"Why didn't you take points from them? They came later than me! And you…"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for speaking out of your turn, Weasley. Now be quiet unless you want detention."

Ron reluctantly sat down – anything was better than a detention with Snape.

"As I was saying, I would expect at least some acceptable potion from each of you, unless you want to suffer my displeasure. The instructions are on the blackboard, proceed!"

"Slimy git – didn't bother to explain anything," Harry muttered under his breath.

Hermione looked at him curiously, then shook her head and went back to her potion.

Harry was determined to let nothing go wrong, he wanted to brew a perfect potion for once. He had realised that potion making wasn't as difficult as Snape made it out to be. Most of the problems occurred because people failed to follow the instruction properly – not that he could blame them – Snape wrote the instructions in the worst possible manner. He read each instruction at least thrice and made sure he understood what it said before doing anything. As a result, his potion was coming along nicely. For once, Snape found nothing to criticise. He looked into his cauldron and gave a curt nod before moving on to Neville.

Neville, as usual, was in trouble. He regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject and his great fear of Snape made things ten times worse. His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned –

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. "Orange! Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Tell me what the twenty-seventh instruction says, I presume you are capable of reading?"

The Slytherins howled with laughter.

"A-add r-rat sp-spleen when the potion turns s-scarlet," stammered Neville.

"And?"

"S-stir until potion turns p-pale yellow. Add a counter-clockwise stir for every t-twelve c-clockwise stirs. Add leech juice and let it s-simmer for eleven m-minutes. Then the potion will turn acid g-green…" Neville looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

Harry was impressed – Neville had managed to _decipher_ the instruction correctly. The art of deciphering Snape's instructions was something they had to learn in their first year. To an outsider, the instructions would've looked like:

_26) +dsy. rt. (7 p.), stir (clk.)—scar.  
27) +rat spl. (x1), stir (clk. x12, cc. x1)—p. yel., +leech juc., simmer (11 m.)—ac. grn.  
29) +slc. ctrplr. (13 p.), simmer—f. grn._

While it wasn't very difficult – at least for those who had had some experience in the class, it was certainly easy to misinterpret something, especially since it was written in Snape's minuscule and cramped handwriting. Snape hadn't exactly provided a key to all those abbreviations and symbols. Harry and Hermione had spent a couple of weeks during their first year deciphering the most common ones. Snape didn't usually allow them to open books while brewing, as a safety measure – and his instructions often tended to differ from those in the book. As a result, not even Hermione could brew the perfect potion every time.

"Impressive Longbottom, you aren't as stupid as I thought, at least you can read," Snape said with a sneer, "Now tell me, doesn't the instruction say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom? Let's see… at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

"Please, sir," Hermione began, but was interrupted by an explosion in the front row. Snape ran towards the source.

"Weasley, it appears you are worse than even Longbottom, at least he can _read_ the instructions," Snape sneered at Ron, once he had examined the contents of his cauldron.

"Decipher them, more like," Harry muttered under his breath.

"…and the skinned shrivelfig was supposed to be added _after_ taking the cauldron off the heat, not _before_," Snape was saying. "Clean up this mess before you go to the hospital wing. And before I forget – you get a _zero_ for today's work. Homework – two and a half feet on Shrinking Solution, including where you went wrong. Due on Monday!"

Ron's face and arms were covered in boils. Harry couldn't help but sympathise with him. The said redhead took out his wand and was about to vanish the contents of his cauldron when Snape stopped him, "Without magic, Salazar knows what you'll blow up with that wand."

Harry suppressed a snigger at the mention of Salazar.

Neville was watching the scene with horror. "Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

Both Harry and Hermione's cauldrons were simmering at the moment.

"Add three pieces of daisy roots; that should neutralise the excess leech juice," Hermione whispered.

"No, wait; add a sopophorous bean; that'll take of the residual poison as well," Harry whispered.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, "What're you talking about Harry? We'll need to add some dragon liver to neutralise the poison."

"Trust me, Mione, I know what I'm doing. Dragon liver may react violently if there is an excess of rat spleen left in the potion."

"All right, but you are going to explain all this after the class. Are you really sure? I mean Trevor will die if something goes wrong…" Hermione trailed off uncertainly.

"I'm sure, Hermione! Now, be quick Neville, or the potion will solidify and we won't be able to do anything."

Neville, who was looking wide eyed at the two of them, hastened to get the sopophorous bean from the store cupboard.

"Now stir counter-clockwise until it turns light green," Harry said when Neville had added the bean. The round faced boy complied.

"Let it simmer now – until it turns acid green," whispered Hermione.

By the time Neville's potion turned acid green, Ron had cleaned up and left the room. Only a couple of minutes later, another explosion took place. This time it was Crabbe. Harry was thankful he wasn't sitting anywhere near the idiotic trio – Snape would have blamed it on him.

Snape lazily flicked his wand, vanishing the contents of Crabbe's cauldron and told him to go to the hospital wing. Harry felt himself getting angry at the injustice of it. It seemed like Snape somehow sensed his anger, for he looked at him as if expecting him to say something.

"Ignore him, just ignore him, Harry. He wants to provoke you; you'll end up in detention!" Hermione hissed.

Forcing his temper down, Harry went back to his potion, which was almost finished now.

About half an hour later, Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's…"

The Slytherins laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Harry and Hermione packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner. Once the potion was ready, he collected it in a vial, marked it with his name and handed it to Snape for grading. It wasn't the exact shade of green that was expected, but it was pretty close. It was at par with Hermione's potion and was certainly better than Malfoy's – which was closer to blue than green.

After collecting everybody's vials, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "Who told you to help him, Miss Granger?"

"I-I didn't Professor," said Hermione, trying to avoid eye contact with Snape.

"Detention for lying…"

"I was the one who helped him, _Professor_," said Harry, in an attempt to divert the attention away from Hermione.

Snape sneered, "And how exactly did you help him, Potter?" Harry felt an attempt to get through his mental shields. He had learnt enough Occlumency to convince Snape that he was telling the truth, without making it seem like his mental shields were up. As long as Snape didn't use his wand, he won't be any wiser about the situation.

"I told him to add a sopophorous bean; that would neutralise the excess leech juice and residual poison."

The gobsmacked look on Snape's face was absolutely priceless. But he recovered pretty quickly, "And why not daisy roots followed by dragon liver and mermaid scales?"

"Dragon liver might have reacted violently if there was any unconsumed rat spleen left in the potion."

Snape looked like he wanted nothing more than to vanish on the spot. Grudgingly, he said, "One point to Gryffindor. Class dismissed."

* * *

"Now tell me what was that all about? I'm sure it's not there in any of our standard books!" Hermione had pushed him in an unused classroom – free of any portraits and ghosts – and cast the basic privacy charms Ginny had taught them.

"Err—I studied a bit during the summer…" Harry trailed off at the look on her face.

"If you don't want to tell me, just say so. No need to make excuses!" Hermione said hotly.

"Look, Mione, it's not that I don't want to tell you. But it's a part of the information I can't tell you until you've learnt Occlumency." He lowered his voice, though it wasn't really necessary, "_He _taught me some things. I'll teach you everything. Just don't ask anything more for now," he pleaded.

Hermione didn't look satisfied, but agreed nonetheless, "I'm going to learn Occlumency as soon as I can – then I'll expect a full explanation!"

Harry nodded. There was really no choice when cornered by Hermione, and he hated keeping secrets from his friends.

"Let's go to lunch, shall we?" Harry asked, when Hermione didn't show any signs of moving.

Together, they set off towards the Great Hall. As they stepped into the entrance hall, they were accosted by an irate looking Ron Weasley. The boils were gone, but his skin still looked raw.

"Why didn't you wait for me to finish my breakfast?" Apparently, he had forgotten that he wasn't speaking to them.

"Because you were too busy filling that Black Hole of a stomach," Hermione retorted, "And unlike you, we don't like to be late for a class, especially Snape's. It would have been detention for Harry."

Ron, who had apparently stopped listening after _'stomach'_, protested, "But I'm a growing boy! I need to eat! At least you could've saved me a seat – then I wouldn't have gotten those boils – and a mountain of homework!"

"In case you've forgotten Ronald, you've been avoiding us for an entire day. Now you need help, so you crawl back to us?" Hermione said, with her hands on her hips and eyes narrowed.

Harry shared a smirk with Ginny, who had just arrived. Hermione could be very scary when enraged.

Ron turned red and stormed off to the Great Hall, leaving Harry and Ginny smirking.

"What are you smirking for?" Hermione turned towards them, hands still on her hips and eyes still narrowed.

Harry chuckled, "Nothing, Mione. You can be scary sometimes, you know that?"

Hermione finally cracked a smile.

"Mind telling me what was all that about?" enquired Ginny, "I thought my _dear_ brother wasn't speaking to the two of you."

"Your brother is an arsehole, Ginny!" said Hermione.

"Language, Hermione!" Harry mock-scolded Hermione, who turned pink.

"That's a well established fact, Hermione. Care to tell me what he did this time?"

Harry and Hermione filled Ginny in on what had happened in the Potions class. She laughed hysterically when Harry told her that he had managed to get a point from Snape.

"Hey, Harry," said Seamus Finnigan, "have you heard? _Daily Prophet _this morning –they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted." They had just arrived at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

"Where?" asked Harry, taking a seat between Hermione and Ginny.

"Not too far from here," said Seamus, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

Harry sighed. As he piled food into his plate, he wondered what it would be like to have a quiet life. Both Ginny and Hermione were looking worriedly at him.

* * *

Harry had been looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts. If the twins were to be believed, Professor Lupin was _seriously cool_. And for once, it turned out, they weren't joking. The lesson started with Professor Lupin telling them to put away their books and follow him to the staff-room. The excitement only increased when he dealt with Peeves by forcing a wad of chewing gum down nostril. The said poltergeist had been stuffing a keyhole with it.

As their luck would have it, Snape was sitting in the staff-room when they arrived. The old bat didn't miss a chance to harass Neville in front of Professor Lupin. Fortunately, Professor Lupin showed some confidence in Neville and asked him to be the first to tackle the boggart.

It didn't really come as a surprise that Neville's greatest fear at the moment was Snape. And it was hilarious to watch Neville forcing Professor Boggart-Snape in his grandmother's clothes. Harry wished he had a camera, or better, Colin was there. The excitable little Gryffindor could be really annoying sometimes, but there was no denying his talent for photography.

Harry watched as the rest of his classmates faced their worst fears. Ron had been trying to slip into their good graces ever since lunch, without actually apologizing. So far, Harry and Hermione had successfully ignored him.

Harry wondered what his worst fear could be – it was a close call between Dumbledore, Voldemort and a dementor. Harry hoped the boggart won't turn into Dumbledore; that would raise some really awkward questions. And how do you make a dementor look funny?

But Professor Lupin stepped in before Harry could face the boggart. Harry wondered why Professor Lupin would be afraid of an orb hanging in the air; and more importantly, why Professor Lupin deliberately stopped him from facing the boggart.

"That was the probably the best Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had," said Harry as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart..."

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, who had just caught up with them. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

Harry and Hermione ignored him again.

* * *

By the time they left the Great hall after dinner, Harry was ready to bang his head against something – Ron just wouldn't leave them alone. He seemed to believe that he had been forgiven without even apologizing – or that there was nothing to apologize for.

Harry had planned to start teaching Ginny and Hermione the things he had learnt during the summer. He didn't really have a problem with Ron learning those things, but if the Headmaster got wind of it, it could end up in a disaster. There weren't many books that taught things in so much depth as the ring had taught him. So, it would be difficult to explain where he had learnt those things

In the end, they had decided to visit Hagrid. Ron had immediately objected to Ginny coming along, but a glare from the little redhead had shut him up.

It turned out that Hagrid had received a warning for bringing hippogriffs to the class. According to the letter, hippogriffs weren't supposed to be covered until sixth year. He was also instructed to keep the offending hippogriff in isolation and submit monthly reports about its behaviour to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for a year.

After reassuring their huge friend that he was a good teacher and politely declining his rock cakes, they had returned to the castle. Harry had to admit, Hagrid had an extensive knowledge of magical creatures. Other than the accident with Goyle, the class had been really good. He was glad he had knocked Malfoy away; otherwise it would have been a lot worse than a warning for Hagrid. Buckbeak would probably have been executed.

After returning from Hagrid's hut, they had decided to go to the library, to get some homework done, and hopefully, get rid of Ron. Unfortunately, Ron had decided to tag along, muttering about Potions homework.

Luck finally favoured them when they returned to the common room after dinner. One of the older students challenged Ron to a game of chess. They managed to slip away under the cover of the invisibility cloak.

Harry let Ginny ask for the room this time. She could certainly be more creative when asking for a room where they wouldn't be disturbed. Predictably, Hermione immediately ran towards the bookshelves, looking gleeful.

"Hey, Hermione, I'm the one who's supposed to be teaching here!" protested Harry.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_ All the reviewers have my gratitude.

Here are my replies to the reviews:

1) About the destruction of dementors – Harry just said he wants to learn how to destroy them, he doesn't know about their immortality yet. And I don't intend to make a golden patronus of love or any such thing. In this fic, love isn't going to be the answer to everything. If Harry does destroy dementors, there will be a reasonable explanation behind it, and there will a price to pay.

2) Why Harry was angry with Hermione even though she didn't know anything – in his opinion, Hermione betrayed his trust by speaking of things he had forbidden her to. And you aren't very rational when you are angry.

3) How come Ginny was Harry's best friend when she was at home – what I tried to convey that Harry felt safer to share his secrets with Ginny than Ron. In other words, he felt closer to her. Ron was a friend, but not so close that harry couldn't see his shortcomings.

4) Why didn't Ron hang around with Dean or Seamus – he was somewhat attracted to the whole boy-who-lived thing. And let's face it, how many people can tolerate someone like Ron? He keeps making fun of football, which is Dean's favourite sport… What I'm trying to convey is that Ron was friends with Harry, but Harry didn't feel as close to him as he did to Ginny. Hermione never really liked him in this fic.

5) Someone said something about Harry sounding too mature for a twelve year old – yes he is. When you face horrors in your life, you tend to grow up quickly. Ginny too, is somewhat more mature than someone her age should be – thanks to Tom Riddle. But they aren't too mature.

6) About Harry murdering Dumbledore – I just wanted opinions. I didn't say it would be happening for sure. Harry talked about vengeance and blood; let's just say he was very angry.

7) Dark Lord Harry – NOOOO!

Hope this satisfies your curiosity!

Next Chapter – Harry gets another stage of the block removed and Hermione meets Salazar Slytherin! I hope to post it soon!

More reviews means faster update! (I'm somewhat disapointed by the number of reviews)  
Please Review!

Author's Notes:


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